Parasite
by clairon
Summary: Starbuck finds himself in a perilous situation, will he survive, will he even want to? COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M

Type: Angst/Adventure

Summary: Starbuck finds himself in a perilous situation, will he survive, will he even want to?

Warnings/Content: Bit gruesome and violent in parts maybe

Disclaimer: I do not own the Battlestar Galactica characters and am making no profit from this story, which is a work of fan fiction only.

* * *

**PARASITE**

**Part One**

The seed awoke with no comprehension of what had gone before. One moment it did not exist, the next it did. It had no awareness of the terrific explosion, the overwhelming energy surge that woke it but it absorbed the life-giving gift immediately, bringing back the life that had lain dormant for so long.

It had spent many lifetimes waiting for a spark to wake it, waiting to be touched and to feel again. And, when the flash came, the intensity was almost too much for the seed to absorb it all. It bobbed on a sea of power and almost sank beneath. It wrestled to right itself, to retain its newfound being as the power washed over and through it. Then is an instant the surge was gone, the wave receded. And the seed felt instantly vulnerable and irresolute for, with consciousness, be it ever so slight, came the deep longing, the intense craving for more power… more strength… more life.

The seed did not yet have the capacity to think. It was driven by the most primeval instinct; that which dwells in all living things, the will to survive. It knew intuitively that it must find a place of safety, a place of warmth from which it could draw more power, where it could grow and flourish, now that its slumbering place had been destroyed.

Moving slowly the seed left the dry, useless cocoon. Senses, newly functioning, it focused on finding a source of power, of light in a dark, dangerous world. The seed knew nothing save it must find a host and quickly or all was lost. Scanning the surrounding area it sensed salvation; the pull towards the body that struggled from the twisted wreckage of metal and stone was irresistible. The seed edged forwards as the man finally extricated himself, fell to the ground with a pained moan and then lay still.

The seed saw the being as only a container of power; power it needed to survive. As swiftly as it could it moved toward him. It entered the nearest orifice, unaware of the sudden choking sounds, the twitching of the body; it basked in the warmth of life; the force that created and maintained the universe. The force the seed would take from this man in order to survive. It moved down past white teeth and deep red tongue that flicked slightly trying without success to halt its progress, down into the very depths of the being, drawn on by the promise of comfort.

It would not kill its host, not yet. It would change the being to better serve its purpose, its needs, while it dwelt deep inside, slowly growing and gaining strength until the time was right. In time the urge for procreation, although now only a distant thrum, would become uncontrollable… but not yet.

The seed, that was no longer a seed, began to germinate in the safe warmth of the host's body. It knew nothing; that would come later. For now it was content to simply grow in safety…..

* * *

"Hmpfh!"

Boomer allowed himself a smirk. It had been a long patrol and his wing mate had managed to control his boredom for most of the time. Now, as they drew nearer to the Galactica, the irrepressible spirit of Starbuck was once more beginning to surface.

"Got a problem, buddy?" Boomer asked.

Starbuck sighed longingly again. "Too long," he muttered.

"The list of people you owe?" Boomer asked smoothly.

"This frakking patrol," Starbuck responded gloomily. "Can't we go a little faster?"

"Nope, you heard the same orders I did, Bucko. Got to conserve fuel as best we can."

Instead of the whining response he was expecting, Boomer stiffened as Starbuck's voice, suddenly intense, came back to him. "Frak!"

"Bucko?"

"My panel's lighting up like the moons of Taurus. I'm losing power!"

Boomer shot a glance over to the viper on his left. A flume of blue flame was flashing beneath the belly of the sleek craft. "What happened?" he asked, flicking his own scanners to see if he had missed something.

"Dunno," Starbuck's voice was grainy and strained now. "One centon all was fine and then ….." He stopped exasperated. "I got major malfunction. It's like all my systems are fried. Did something hit me?"

Boomer pursed his lips. "Nothing that my scanners could sense. You gonna make it back to the Galactica?"

"Negative, Boom, Boom. I'm gonna have to put her down."

Boomer sighed, checking his scanner. "You got a choice of two planets," he began. "Nearest one is….

Starbuck's voice cut across the other lieutenant's. "Gotta be. I don't know how long I can hold it together."

"OK," Boomer responded, calmly efficient. "You got the co-ordinates?"

"Barely!" Starbuck's teeth were gritted as he spoke. "And Boom – hurry back. You know how lonely I get when I'm left by myself!"

"I know what trouble you get yourself into, Bucko! I can't believe you're downing yet another viper. The Commander said next time he was gonna deduct it from your pay!"

"Sssh!" Starbuck appreciated his friend's attempt at humour, be it weak and his voice was less tense as he replied. "Don't remind him. You know this secton's pay is already accounted for!"

"I know you lost it on another unbeatable system of yours that failed to live up to its billing!" Boomer snorted. "Be careful, Bucko!"

"You can bet on it, buddy!"

"I think I'll leave that to you, Starbuck!"

The conversation had been monitored by the Control Deck of the Galactica. Captain Apollo threw a questioning glance from his position behind Omega, to the Commander. Adama nodded. "Get a shuttle ready, Captain," he ordered. "I want the viper back as well as the miscreant flying it!"

Apollo smiled grimly, saluted and rushed to leave the room. The Commander turned back to concentrate on the voice coming through the speakers.

"Come on, baby," Starbuck muttered as his craft hit and bounced along the planet's atmosphere. All the lights on his control panel were flashing crazily at him. "Hold it together." There was silence for a few moments before his voice came again. "Frak!"

"What is your condition, Lieutenant?" Omega asked from the bridge, taking over from Boomer.

"Reverse thrusters won't fire," Starbuck responded tersely. "Dumping excess fuel – sorry Commander! I'm going in hot – gonna make a mess!"

Adama snorted. He hated this. The powerlessness of command, being stuck on the Galactica unable to influence events, as one of his men, and on this occasion one that he was particularly fond of, faced a peril far away. He clutched hold of the back of Omega's chair, knuckles as white as his face… praying silently….

Starbuck's voice crackled over the speakers again. "Planet is forested – looks like a soft landing from here. I'm going in…..!"

There was little noise to cut through the tense atmosphere of the bridge save for the crackle of some static from the link. Everyone waited, praying that all would be well. Then the silence was shattered by a devastating crash that reverberated through the overwrought air, followed by a dragging sound, all overlaid by a long agonized high pitched human scream. Everything was silenced by one last horrific smash and then the link went dead.

Adama closed his eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility and despair forcing down on him. For just a second he allowed himself to flounder under its pressure but then he forced it away. He opened clear blue eyes aware that everyone else in the Command Centre was staring at him, looking to him for direction.

"Get the shuttle going," he ordered to no one in particular. "Get Starbuck home."

* * *

TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

The pain was intense, fogging his senses and stealing away all clarity. Starbuck tried to open his eyes as his training kicked in; he had to assess the situation, make a plan for action but the haze was too close to his consciousness. Iced fingers stretched into his mind to steal his awareness, plunging him back into oblivion.

He took a deep breath ignoring the flash of pain in his chest, forcing himself to see. His surroundings floated in front of watery eyes, indistinct, smudged, and indecipherable. "Gotta get out, Bucko," he murmured weakly. But he could not find the strength to move. Instead his eyes closed, his head lolled back and his senses shut down completely. He did not know how long he was out but the comforting, pain free blackness did not last long. He tried again, forcing his eyes open, pursing his lips as he concentrated on forming the blurred image in front of him into a semblance of normality.

His viper had cut a swathe through the dense forest. Small fires struggled to burn at the edges of the gorge he had gouged out of the earth but from his position, still strapped into the cockpit, he could not see this. All Starbuck saw was the grey stone monolith which he had finally crashed into and had brought his craft to a complete, crumpled stop. The monument had been knocked over and lay on its side on the mossy earth, the viper's nose had embedded itself into the stone like a treacherous knife in an unsuspecting victim's back.

Starbuck moaned as the mental shock hit him almost as hard as the physical one had earlier. His luck it appeared had not deserted him, if he had been going any faster on impact he had no doubt that his body would have ended up as the filling in a sandwich of metal and stone. He gulped as a wave of nausea washed through him. Again his fragile grip on consciousness seemed to slip and he closed his eyes, trying only to survive the pain.

As it settled to a dull ache he forced himself to think. He had to get out of the craft regardless of the damage his landing had done to his body. The longer he remained in it the more vulnerable he was; who knew what had tracked his flaming path across the sky? There could be any manner of enemy on this planet, rushing to investigate his spectacular descent to earth. Gingerly he tried to move his legs but stopped, biting back the groan as flames of agony burnt through him. He had to do this, he knew, but he doubted whether his courage would guide him through the pain.

Slowly, very slowly he used his arms to pop his cockpit canopy open and lifted it, up and away. He bit his lip, tasted blood, as holding on to the side, his arms straining arms lifted his body out of the viper. Eventually he levered himself to a sitting position, then he balanced precariously on the lip on the cockpit, closing his eyes as more waves of pain bombarded him. He tottered on the edge, clutching desperately with both his hands and his mind to keep hold but the pull of oblivion was too strong and as it rushed up to take him, he fell backwards to the ground with a dull thud.

Starbuck lay still, his mouth slightly open as he groaned softly. The small grub-like entity crawled from the base of the monolith towards him, its pace slow but purposeful. It never deviated, never hesitated as it made its way to the unconscious pilot's mouth and entered. Starbuck choked weakly, his body spasming but he did not wake as the entity disappeared down his throat.

* * *

It was a miracle! Magawincha had never dreamed she would see anything like it in her lifetime, but it had happened! The writings had proved to be true. The prophecy fulfilled. And though she had never doubted their validity, it made her feel so warm inside that her beliefs had been justified.

She stopped now, her senses bombarding her with vibrations as she hesitated. She examined them all – the stringent scent of fire and something else floating on the breeze causing her nostrils to flex, the complete lack of noise, the touch of the soft mossy covering of the clearing and the change as it became warm, and blackened from the happening as she moved forwards. But the thing she concentrated on was the information her eyes gave her. She had seen the monolith broken and torn asunder, the strange white craft embedded into it, the vicious scar it had cut through the forest and such damage would normally have caused her to stop, to fear, for naturally cautious she hated change, but her eyes had run across the things quickly, as if they were not important, coming to rest and remain on the vision in front of her.

She felt suddenly inadequate, unclean, to be in the presence of such godliness. Her paw, unbidden, itched to reach out and touch the beauty that entranced her but she stopped herself. Instead she quivered as her eyes drank in the physical perfection of the golden being who lay before her.

"Don't touch!" Beagragon's order was harsh. "You are not worthy!"

Magawincha looked away and dropped her head in deference, feeling her eyes were suddenly bereft. Beagragon was the leader, he knew so much more than her; he was learned in the gospels and the teachings. He was Keeper of the Monolith, Protector of the People. It was only correct that he should take precedence, take over now he had arrived. But Magawincha allowed her snout to curl into a slight smile; he could not take away the fact that she had arrived first to the clearing, that she had seen it first, that she had found the Chosen One!

It had all happened so quickly. The bright star blazing across the darkening evening sky and then the noise as it seemed to scream to them. They had stood, eyes wide and hearts thumping furiously with awe as they dared to hope. And then they were running, falling over themselves through the forest, running for the monolith, the place where the star was falling. It was the prophecy – it had to be!

And Magawincha with her smaller, younger frame had ducked around the trees lithely to arrive in the sacred clearing first. It had all exploded into her vision and she had stood on her hind legs frozen with amazement and wonder and fear.

"He is well featured." Magawincha heard Eveenator whisper behind her. "And so different from what I imagined. His face has only short, spiky hair."

"Beautiful," Magawincha breathed. "He is pale and golden!"

Beagragon let out a snort. "Typical!" he scoffed. "Of course he is…. Is he not the Chosen One? Now we must get him ready, we must prepare." He wrinkled his nose. "There is danger coming, I sense it."

"But how?" Slynavo asked from his position between them. "He is too big for us."

Magawincha let her eyes run along the body before them once more. She could see the height of his frame, his muscles were neat and yet she sensed the strength in them. His physical perfection was so unlike her own short, worthless form.

"Nonsense!" Beagragon sniffed. "We must work together as the prophecy says. 'Though there be few of us, still will it be enough!' Slynavo go and fetch the sling, we will pull him back together. Eveenator go with him."

"But…."

"Do not question me!"

"May I stay please, Beagragon?" Magawincha asked meekly, not daring to hope.

Beagragon's features twisted into a smile. "You may," he said.

Magawincha ignored the growl of disappointment from Eveenator as she and Slynavo moved away. "Beagragon always lets her do things!" she moaned.

Magawincha turned her attention back to the Chosen One. Again the desire to reach out and stroke the smooth, almost hairless skin burned in her but she remembered Beagragon's words, so she satisfied herself by simply running her eyes over him. She took in every detail, every feature from the smooth slightly sweaty golden hair on his head, over the pale skin punctuated with stark red cuts and darker bruises, down across the brown uniform stained and ripped to the big boots on his feet. He was indeed a thing of legends!

Beagragon had moved away and she could hear him sniffing expectantly around the monolith. Magawincha sat back on her haunches to wait. Her heart jumped feverishly in her chest as she looked down on to the face once more, for beautiful blue eyes had opened to look at her. They sparkled in the moonlight. She did not see the pain that veiled them, all she saw was their intense warmth and comfort. From that moment she was lost in a sea of shimmering love that she would have been unable to swim against, even if she had the will to do so.

* * *

TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Starbuck groaned as the uncontrollable shivers swept through him. He opened his eyes, trying to focus but the world shimmered about him. Squeezing his eyelids together he managed to force his vision still long enough to make out a pair of golden brown eyes staring down at him… a pair of brown eyes in a long equine face that was covered with short hair.

"Frak!" Starbuck spat, his hand going for the blaster at his thigh, as he ignored the pain that crashed through his body and forced his other hand into the dirt beside him, hoping to use it as a lever to push himself backwards but his strength deserted him. He ended up sitting, blaster in his hand, pointed at the strange creature who had been leaning over him. The creature had not moved, it simply cocked its head to one side regarding him through tawny eyes wide with excitement.

There was movement over to the creature's left and another hairy face appeared, almost exactly the same as the first although slightly larger. This one began to move towards the downed pilot. Starbuck moved his gun to vaguely point in the newcomer's general direction, although in truth, the strength it was taking him just to hold the blaster up was causing his whole arm to sway and he seriously doubted whether he would be able to hit anything at all.

The second creature stopped to stand next to the first, long velvet ears twitching and much to Starbuck's complete surprise it opened its mouth and spoke perfectly to him.

"Please, we mean you no harm," it said gently. "In fact we wish you only goodness." Starbuck gulped and blinked as beads of perspiration rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. The fingers of oblivion were stroking through his mind once more and he was fighting to remain conscious. "You are precious to us," the mesmerising voice continued.

Starbuck's arm was leaden and it began to slip down towards the floor. "Who…." He began but he knew he could never finish the sentence. Instead he concentrated his remaining strength into his arm, forcing it to stop shaking and for a while it did just that.

The bigger creature extended its front paw. "We will help you," it continued.

Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as the black fingers continued their progress through his brain. Starbuck's eyes began to roll up into his head and his arm was suddenly shaking even more violently again. He groaned desperately, knowing his senses were shutting down, knowing he could not override the paralysis that was slowly taking over him.

The two creatures silently watched him as he cast about, using the last of his strength, desperate for an escape, knowing he would find none. And then as his hope died his whole body was rocked. It started in the very pits of his belly and forced its way outwards, a wave of such extreme force that it pushed his gastric juices before it, up his gullet. Starbuck moaned as embarrassingly the power hit his bowels and he thought he would lose his control completely.

The world about him lost focus fading to blackness once more. He dropped the blaster, it fell, forgotten into the soft moss, and he was falling onto his side, gasping, retching, writhing as the pain radiated through him and his muscles screamed in agony. He lay powerless to fight, unable even to retain his awareness as the contractions exploded through him.

"It is time," Beagragon muttered sagely. "See, the cleansing begins!"

Magawincha flicked her eyes back to the Chosen One just as he began to vomit the contents of his stomach violently on to the clearing floor. He glanced up to her then and she saw the pain, the bewilderment in those wide blue eyes. She gulped, as his fear touched her causing her heart to quiver in empathy.

"May I comfort him," she asked softly.

Beagragon smirked. "My beautiful Magawincha," he said. "You were born for this moment, born to give comfort. Now the process has started you can do naught but comfort him."

Still Magawincha hesitated. Beagragon had to motion her forward. She slowly stretched out her paw, gently beginning to stroke the retching figure's back. He groaned then but did not shift away from her. Encouraged she moved closer, careful to keep out of range of his vomiting, she settled herself at his rear, stroking and whispering words of encouragement as they waited for the others to return.

* * *

Apollo allowed his breath out silently as he stalked as stealthily as he could through the trees. On both his sides he trusted that his men moved likewise. A hundred metrons in front of them they knew the camp was situated. Now they advanced towards it anxious to keep their intentions secret until the latest possible moment, anxious not to alert their enemy.

The Captain had six Warriors with him, all from Blue Squadron, all friends of Starbuck and all fired on by the righteous indignation and the desire to free their comrade. They had landed in mid afternoon as near as they could to the place where the viper had come to its final resting. Apollo still remembered the iced fear that clutched at him when he first saw the smouldering viper embedded in the granite monolith. He had feared then that no one could survive such a crash.

But the canopy was open, the cockpit empty save for a small pool of blood gathered on the seat of the chair. The sight gave Apollo both hope and fear – his friend had not died in the crash but neither had he walked away unscathed. They had to find the lost lieutenant and quickly.

Boomer had called across the thin, clear air of the clearing when he found Starbuck's blaster dropped and abandoned. From there it had been easy to pick up the trail – something had been dragged away from the clearing, squashing the grass as it marked its passage. And there was more, at intervals along the way there were puddles of liquid. Cassie, their Medtech – no one could stop her from coming on this mission although many had tried – scanned them.

"Vomit," she muttered as she wrinkled her pretty button nose that Starbuck loved to kiss. "Human vomit and something else."

She had wanted to try to get a DNA reading from it and Apollo had let her stay with Greenbean to protect her to work on it.

Now he reasoned it was not needed. For the forest that they moved through was eerily silent save for one noise; a noise that again gave Apollo that incongruent feeling of both relief and fear. The evening air was filled with the sound of a human and one that sounded suspiciously like Starbuck, retching fiercely.

"Trust him," Boomer had muttered. "To walk away from a crash like that with nothing more than a stomach upset!"

Apollo had been less sure. The vomiting while not continuous was far too regular and violent to be anything but worrying. Apollo wanted him back on the Galactica and in the Life Centre as quickly as possible.

They had had brief glimpses through the trees of the camp they attacked but nothing had prepared them for the reality of the scene as they crashed through the undergrowth to burst out, lasers drawn and prepared to kill, to rescue Starbuck.

The Lieutenant in question was lying on his side on a small mossy hillock. His legs were drawn up to his chest and his head was down so he was curled into the foetal position. Beside him, sitting on its haunches so it was almost a metron in height was a slim creature covered completely with soft brown hair. Its head was long and tapered to a long snort that Apollo felt resembled a deer. Its eyes were huge in its head, golden and unblinking as they stared up at the intruders to the camp, it long ears twitched in obvious surprise. Its back legs appeared powerful and strong but its front ones were shorter and the paws at its end were more like human hands with digits. Apollo stood transfixed as one paw lightly stroked Starbuck's head and seemed to be bringing the pilot comfort.

There were another two similar creatures in the small clearing which ran along the side of a small stream. One appeared to have been sleeping, the other, slightly bigger one had been stripped the bark from a tree branch with its teeth.

"Frak!" Boomer's voice echoed around the camp. "What is this?"

The bigger animal spat the strip of bark from its mouth, and stepped forwards. Instantly seven blasters were trained on it. It appeared to ignore the hostility and bowed its head.

If the Warriors were shocked at this behaviour, they were even more so when it spoke. "Welcome, I am Beagragon, Keeper of the Monolith, Protector of the People. You look weary. May I offer you refreshment?"

"What the frak?" somebody muttered.

"Shhssh!" Apollo hissed as he signalled that his men should relax their weapons a little. "I am Captain Apollo, Strike Captain of the Battlestar Galactica. Thank you for your welcome Beagragon. Refreshments are not necessary. We come only to retrieve our comrade. Thank you for caring for him."

At this point Starbuck's body convulsed spastically. He groaned weakly and then began to retch.

"Cassie!" Apollo called.

The blonde Medtech whom Apollo had radioed to come up to them, sprinted into the clearing. Ignoring all else she moved to kneel beside Starbuck on the opposite side to the creature.

"Easy, Starbuck," she soothed as she ran the scanner over his body.

He looked up between gagging. "Cassie?" he whispered hoarsely. "Help me, I can't….." The rest of his sentence was lost as copious amounts of stomach juices spewed forth.

"Easy, Starbuck," she repeated. "I can give you something to stop it." She fiddled in the bag she had placed at her side, retrieving a hypo and drawing it up, then burying it deep into the shuddering pilot's arm. He groaned but appeared to relax a little. "Captain," Cassiopeia shot a glance over to where Apollo and the others stood. "We have to get him back soon."

Apollo nodded.

"That will not be possible!" Beagragon's voice was suddenly masterful.

Apollo's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I cannot allow you to take him anywhere. This is his place."

The creature who had been beside Starbuck had moved, giving up her place as Cassie had taken over. Magawincha, horrified at the blasphemous words coming from these strangers sensed Eweenator moving slowly too. They were both going to stand beside Beagragon. Damn that Slynavo, their best fighter, was out cutting trees some where!

There was a murmur of disagreement from the gathered Warriors and blasters were lifted again. Apollo gulped wondering if there was more to this strange creature before him than he had first assumed. Schooling himself to be patient he tried again. "I don't believe you understand me. The man over there is my comrade, my friend. I thank you for looking after him so far but I must take him back to his home where he will be looked after properly!"

One of the other creatures began to growl and all three crouched as if ready to jump at any second. "It is you who does not understand, Captain," the words were clipped and angry. "You cannot look after him properly – here is the only place he should be."

Apollo heard Boomer snort in frustration. "You are correct, Beagragon," he tried one last time. "I do not understand and I do not wish to hurt you. Nevertheless I will talk Starbuck back with me. I caution you that my men and I will fight for him."

The creature called Beagragon hesitated as if considering Apollo's words. Finally he spoke again and this time his words had a fanatic ring. "It is written that the unbelievers will try to take him away from us, will come with fire and fear to break our faith but we will remain strong, we will still believe – the prophecy is written and will come to pass!"

On his last word a blurry shape jumped into the clearing to attack the nearest Warrior. There was a flash of blaster fire and a shocked scream overlaid by the terrifying growl of an animal.

It was over shockingly quickly and by its end Slynavo lie on his side in the mud, a gaping hole spitting out blood and guts where his belly should have been. Brice, a Colonial Warrior was lying on the floor cradling a badly bitten arm and the other three creatures were huddled together on the banks of the stream, Beagragon using his own body to shelter those of his smaller kin.

"Damnation shall wreck all of your days!" he spat as Apollo stood before him.

Apollo shook his head sadly. "Take Starbuck to the shuttle," he ordered and Boomer and the others rushed to comply. "I am truly sorry, Beagragon," he confessed looking at the petrified trio. "I did not wish to harm any of you but I warned you. Starbuck is precious to me and I would do whatever it takes to keep him safe."

"You are a fool," Beagragon snapped. "Here is the only place he will be safe, and here is where he will return! It is written!"

"I'm sorry," Apollo repeated and then he turned to follow the others, his shoulders sagging slightly with his guilt.

After the Warriors had left Eweenator began to keen. She moved to stand over Slynavo's corpse as the sobs wracked through her body. Beagragon moved to stand with her. "How great," he murmured, "To give your life in service of the Chosen One. Brother Slynavo is blessed and shall surely be welcomed in paradise! Come we must prepare him for his ascent."

Magawincha hesitated, unable to pull her eyes from the place where she had last seen the golden mop of hair as he had been carried through the trees away from her. She felt an overwhelming loss ripping deep at her innards not for Slynavo but for the Chosen One. How could this have happened? They were so close. Why had this happened? Were they not worthy after all?

As if sensing her doubt Beagragon moved to gently stroke her. "He will return," he said with all the strength of purpose of his soul.

"How do you know?" Magawincha heard herself ask.

Beagragon smiled. "Have faith little one. He will return because he is Chosen to do so. The Book says that Unbelievers shall steal him away, yet will he return to us in all his glory. Then and only then will the prophecy be fulfilled!"

Magawincha gulped. She was sure that Beagragon had never mentioned this part of the prophecy before. She had always understood that when the Chosen One arrived, then the miracle would be very near. But Beagragon was the one who knew the scriptures. Who was she to question his judgement? She looked down, ashamed that the thought had even entered her head.

"Of course," she concurred and with one last mournful look to where her love had disappeared she turned to do Beagragon's bidding.

* * *

TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

Starbuck opened his eyes expecting to see the familiar sterile surroundings of the Life Centre. Although his vision did not seem to have improved, he was getting used to the necessity of screwing his eyes up in order to get a clear vision of the world around him. But even when he did that there was nothing familiar about the place where he was and it was definitely no where on Galactica.

He was surrounded by vaporous deep pinks and reds. The transitory feeling of the place was emphasised by the walls which seemed to be made of some sort of diaphanous yielding substance that swayed slightly. Running through them were a number of pipes carrying liquids of the same hue of colours as the walls themselves. There was the distant drum of a steady beat and laid over that a symphony of squelching and sucking sounds which Starbuck found somehow strangely reassuring.

He took a deep breath and sighed. If this was a dream it was very weird – he made a mental note to ask Dr Salik what drugs he had given him, just out of interest obviously. The thought was forgotten as Starbuck opened his eyes and saw the vision before him. She had not been there before he knew for sure but now she most certainly was! The most beautifully prefect woman he had ever seen, from her long blonde flowing locks, her chiselled cheek bones and pouting luscious lips all the way over her curvaceous body to those long endless and slender legs.

He let his breath out in a panting rush as beautiful blue eyes met his own and the wave of lust that washed over him almost undid him. She smiled then, raising her hands to his. Licking his lips he took them and she helped him to a sitting position. Her skin was smooth and soft and he held on to her longer than was necessary. Her smile widened.

"Is this a dream?" he asked, voice rasping with want.

"No," her voice was sultry as a Caprican thunder storm – just the way he hoped it would be.

"Then who are you? Where are we?"

Her eyes twinkled in the dim light as she ran a shameless tongue across those wide lips. "I am inside you."

The irony of such a comment was not lost on Starbuck and he could not restrain the wry chuckle that escaped him. "It's normally me inside the beautiful woman," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I am aware of your reputation as well as your appetites – you are revealed before me – everything that you are and everything that you could be."

Starbuck felt himself twitch nervously. Something about the intensity of her gaze along with the potency of her words made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable. He did not like the thought of anyone getting close enough to see the man behind the Starbuck myth but he sensed this woman was different. On the most basic level she was touching him, drawing him in and he absently wondered why he should bother to resist.

She seemed to sense his desire and her smile brightened. The warm feeling in his guts grew chasing away his uncertainty, making him feel safe and cherished. Her honeyed voice was mesmerising as she continued. "Tell me what you remember."

He had to obey; the compulsion was so strong there was no doubt, but what did he remember? Pain, vomit, shit, fear… he did not want to speak of such things, not to her. They seemed suddenly petty and insignificant when placed next to her brilliance. She was beautiful; he did not want to taint that with any of his own flaws and failings. "I crashed," he muttered finally, feeling nothing more than as a petulant school boy.

She moved forward then, gliding with such grace that his mouth went dry, his eyes widened and his stomach fluttered. She reached out, laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and he bit back the gasp that threatened to escape him. Who was she? Why did she have this affect on him?

"You have suffered much, my brave Starbuck," she said. "And for that I am infinitely sorry. It should not have been this way. I have asked much, expected too much even for one with a heart as big as yours. We cannot change what has gone before but at least I can explain why I have chosen as I have."

He was captivated by her voice, the movement of her lips, the touch of her hand on his shoulder, the depth in her eyes. His stomach was lurching like a viper out of control. It was more intense than anything he had ever felt before, deeper, stronger; he felt he balanced perilously on the edge of something at once exhilarating but also deeply terrifying. Words would not come, he stuttered pathetically but she placed her elegant finger to his lips and he tasted sweetness as she said, "Listen to me."

He nodded slightly, her eyes holding his as she moved to sit beside him and took his hands in hers. "I am not as you see me. This is a vision, a shell I have created out of your own imagination. No wonder you feel attracted to me – I have become the creature of your deepest dreams and desires."

Starbuck felt himself flush but he still could not pull his eyes from hers as she continued. "I took this form to please you because I want your willing assistance, however, it does not matter, for you will acquiesce to my demands."

He found himself nodding but, fighting to regain his composure, he managed to force out, "Your demands?" he was embarrassed further by the weak squeak his voice had become.

"Put simply, I need you to help me save my people."

"Save your…. But how?"

"You have something that I need." She smiled strikingly softly. "The power that flows through your soul, the love of life itself that enthuses every cell of your being. I need that." Her eyes were bottomless, sucking him in.

Starbuck gulped. He wanted so much to reach out to her, to pledge himself, anything and everything that he had, to help her but something deep down in the very pit of his being stopped him. The instinct of the shrewd and hardened street fighter from the orphanage of Caprica City stepped forward sensing the danger that the starry eyed admirer had overlooked. It was the part of his character not often seen save in the extreme exigencies of a fight but it had saved the blonde lieutenant's life on numerous occasions. It pulled him back from the hazy comfort of this place, it instantly sharpened the colours and his senses, made more distinct the lines and angles, chased away the fogginess in his mind and grounded him. He flinched and seemed to pull away from her although he did not physically move.

She sensed the change in him but it did not alarm her. The complexity of this man before her was intriguing and novel. It added a different dimension to her mission and it made him infinitely more attractive than the wide-eyed fool he had appeared but seconds before. Although she had taken the form of his deepest desire to dazzle him, he had not succumbed to it. She had not believed that he would, for it was not the shallow façade that he showed the world that she wished to appeal to, no it was the profound being he hid in the unfathomable depths she needed to entice.

He broke her gaze, looking down to the floor, fidgeting. "What do you want from me?" he asked voice emotionless and firm.

"If you will allow me I will explain why you are here, first." He gulped, eyes suddenly veiled with caution but nodded. She continued. "The planet on which you crashed was once teaming with life. My people were one of many species who inhabited it and all appeared well. But the planet was slowly dying; the jungles and the water receding, the lifeless desert slowly creeping forward and extinguishing all before it. My people saw the approaching disaster and sort to avert it. When it became clear that we could not, we looked to the stars to find a way to new planets. It took many years but eventually we developed the technology and my people left. We left behind only a memory of the things we had created, our achievements, our legacy and a seed to begin life once more; for it was our hope that our planet would regenerate somehow and live again. But the destruction continued, as the natural resources on the planet dwindled and the world was left to a dying forest and the animals that inhabited it."

She was quiet for a while, her head bowed as her blonde tresses fell forwards.

"What about those who rescued me?" Starbuck asked, still keeping his distance and squashing the strong urge to comfort her.

"They were bred as domestic servants for my people long, long ago. They have taken our stories, our scriptures and made them their own. They dream of salvation but alas it will never be. The last in a long line. Slowly they are dying like the planet. Those that you saw are all that remains and though they are long-lived, still their time is short. They that remain are barren drones, once they are gone everything, even the memories, all that was left of my people, will go. The biosphere of the planet has lost its delicate balance, it will take a long time but eventually all will be dust."

Starbuck nodded, unsure of what to say. Her story was raising still more questions in his head and answering none of the original ones. And all the time his instincts were screaming at him, warning him of the danger. He fixed her with his sternest stare, the one he had learnt from Adama after being on the receiving end of it on numerous occasions. He hoped it had a little of the power that the Commander's had. "You are still here," he said challengingly.

She lifted her head then and the perfection of her beauty hit him anew. Her eyes were pools of absolute sadness that he could no longer resist. He found himself reaching out to comfort her. She quivered at his touch and then seemed to sink into his embrace, her head rested on his shoulder where it seemed to fit perfectly. A single prefect tear meandered down her cheek.

He looked at her and reached up to wipe the moistness away. "I'm sorry," he muttered defensively. "I've never been able to do 'severe' very well. I didn't mean to upset you, I just don't understand."

She lifted her head, the sad smile playing across her lips. "You are a free spirit, Starbuck," she replied. "It is not in your make-up to be hard-hearted or unsympathetic." She sniffed. "I am here yes, but I am a part of you, without you I cannot exist."

He looked down into her eyes, his face creased with frustration. "It's getting harder, you know, not easier, all this. Can you give me the dumb–downed version please?" he moaned.

She chuckled. "Always so self-effacing on matters of true import. Why do you hide behind the mask, Starbuck?" He shrugged then, as she lifted her head and moved away slightly. "You crashed," she continued with a sad sigh. "As you said; but the consequences of that moment were titanic. For you crashed into the place where my people had left the seed they hoped would one day re-colonise their world. The pure uncontrolled energy released in your crash did something miraculous. It awakened the seed from its sleep of millennia. It started in motion the cycle of events that my people had planned so long ago."

"And here was me worrying about the cost of another damaged viper," Starbuck muttered.

"There are far more significant happenings. Once awoken the seed was immediately vulnerable. It's perfectly balanced sanctuary was destroyed. It needed to find a source of renewable energy, so it sought out the most powerful living thing it could find. Crawled inside and fixed itself to the life-force of that being."

Starbuck gulped, his bowels suddenly chilled. "There was nothing in that glade alive," he mumbled. "The crash would have seen to that. There was fire and carnage…"

She shook her head. "There was one being that still lived. Still fought to hold on to life, clawing desperately for one more breath, one more sensation as he has done since the day he was born. A being so in love with life that he refused to give it up. A being so vibrant that the seed was drawn to him instantly, envying him his courage, his vigour, his energy and needing it desperately, frantically; demanding it in order to stay alive."

Starbuck's voice quavered. "Me?" he whispered.

She nodded.

His mind was whirling as his heart raced; the pumping sound around them increasing in velocity and sound. With a terrifying certainty he understood what she was saying, what she was asking of him and a sheer shiver of crystal fear iced along his spine. Forcing himself to speak he said, "And you are…" but he hesitated unable to voice his dread.

She moved back to him then and he accepted her tender embrace as a dying man accepts the final release of death. Her voice was chilling in its softness.

"I am Kynan – the seed."

* * *

TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Dr Salik cleared in throat as he moved to stand before the Commander and his son in the observation area of the Life Centre. Apollo looked behind him through the window that separated them from the treatment area. He wondered what Salik wanted and why the contamination procedure was in force. Behind the glass he saw Starbuck sitting up in bed and grinning at Cassiopeia as she fussed around him. He obviously said something inappropriately funny as she giggled and swatted him jokingly. All appeared as is should.

Apollo sighed, remembering the panicked trip back from the planet surface that seemed so outlandish that it had now taken on all the characteristics of a nightmare in his memory. Starbuck had quivered and moaned as Cassie had tried to make him comfortable. He had screamed in his pain, muttering as if in a fevered conversation and then his body arched and fists clenched tightly as he reared off the gurney, tears of agony rolling down his face.

Apollo still remembered the stark terror in Cassie's voice as she had cried out to him for assistance. "Apollo, I can't help him! We have to get him to the Life Centre. I don't understand what's happening to him - the scans are all over the place!"

It had been touch and go but they had managed it and Dr Salik had been able to stabilise the blonde pilot's condition. His fever had cooled, his strange muttering silenced, the retching and vomiting stopped and Starbuck had awoken dazed and distracted initially but soon he appeared calm and refreshed and almost glowing with health.

"I don't know how he does it!" His father's voice cut through Apollo's reverie, bringing him back to the present.

"Pardon?" he muttered, realising he had missed the conversation.

"Doctor Salik says that Starbuck has only minor injuries from the crash – another episode of that amazing Starbuck luck!" Adama smiled and Apollo wanted to do likewise but stopped when he saw Salik remained aloof and serious. If everything was all right why had the Commander been summoned?

"I'm not entirely sure about that," the doctor said and something inside Apollo went cold at Salik's severity.

"About what?" The Commander asked his tone curious but still mild.

Salik sighed. "About whether he has been lucky or not. He has few injuries from the crash it is true, but there's something else showing up on the scans."

Apollo remembered. "Cassie noticed something strange on the way up," he offered.

"What?" Adama asked.

Salik cast a glance over his shoulder to where Starbuck and Cassiopeia were still whispering. "I don't understand," he said finally. "I've checked Starbuck's last med exam results, it was only six sectares ago – there was no sign. For it to have got this big, this quickly!" He shook his head exasperated. "It makes no sense."

"Doctor," Adama began in his most authoritive tone. "What are you talking about?"

Salik ran his hand through his thinning hair. "There is a growth in his stomach…" He stopped.

"A growth?" Adama's voice was cold as Apollo shuddered beside him. "Is it malignant?"

"I'm still running tests but it appears not. In fact it exhibits none of the characteristics I would expect."

"What is your prognosis, Doctor?"

"I need more information. Sometimes the scans don't give enough and there is no alternative - I have scheduled exploratory surgery for this afternoon but I thought you should know."

"Does Starbuck know?" Apollo asked.

"Not yet," Salik replied.

"But doesn't he have a right to know?" Apollo's voice was so loud it echoed around the observation area.

"Of course, Captain," Salik snapped. "But where fleet security is concerned I need the Commander's permission above all others before I proceed."

"Fleet security, Salik? What do you mean?"

"Whatever is inside Starbuck does not appear to ….." The doctor hesitated before continuing, "I can't scan it properly because it keeps moving."

"Moving?" Apollo gasped in horror.

Adama sighed. "Some sort of parasite from the Planet?"

Salik nodded. "Maybe."

"That accounts for you isolating him at least." Adama moved away to look through the glass panel at where the blonde pilot lay, fidgeting impatiently now Cassiopeia had moved away on to other work. The Commander stared at the pilot for a long time. "And if you cut into him, you run the risk of letting it, whatever it may be, out," he mused.

Salik nodded. "It's a risk I am willing to take."

"I don't know if I am," Adama turned back to them. "Delay the surgery Salik," he ordered. "Observe the growth only. See if we can at least come to understand it a little better."

"What about Starbuck?" Apollo asked.

"As far as I can tell he is in no immediate danger," Salik replied.

"If that changes at any time I want to be informed immediately," Adama ordered.

"Of course, Commander."

"Aren't we going to tell him?" Apollo pressed.

Adama looked back at the oblivious pilot, his features unreadable. "Not yet," he said finally. "He remains in isolation here. Ensure that all protocols are followed, Salik."

"But…" began Apollo.

"Not yet," Adama repeated. "Not until there is more to tell him."

The buzz of the com was not what awoke Apollo; he had not been able to sleep even before its bleep broke into the silence of the room. Although it was well into sleep period the Captain had lain restless in his bed for centons, unable to find the required peace of mind to drift off. Many thoughts careened about crazily in his head but the most important were his fears for Starbuck. He did not agree with his father that the pilot should not be told of his condition and he felt increasingly guilty that, due to his isolation, no one save Cassiopeia and Salik had visited him since his return.

The buzz of the com was an almost welcome escape from the self-reproach that Apollo was feeling.

"Captain Apollo?" It was Cassiopeia's voice, strained and tired.

"What is it Cass?" Apollo asked.

She sniffed. "He's gone!"

All traces of slumber left him as fear fizzled through his veins. "What happened Cass?" he asked. "Tell me."

She sniffed again. "We thought he was sleeping – I gave him the sedative, I know I did! I went for a break and when I came back, his bed was empty. I don't understand." She drew in a deep breath and her voice when it came again was clinically efficient. "I have to call Security, Apollo but I want you to find him…. please."

"Of course. Get Boomer too!"

Apollo was half dressed before the link went dead and then he was skidding down the corridors. He had no idea where his friend would go but one thought clattered about his head; in the clearing, on the planet that animal-thing had said that Starbuck would return there. While Apollo didn't believe it for a second, he knew he had to eliminate it as a possibility and so he made his way to alpha launch bay.

As he threw himself out of the turbo lift his eyes flashed toward the bays, his ears already hearing the whirl of the engines. There was a crumpled figure on the floor to his left. He ran to it – Ensign Greenbean groaned painfully and rubbed his head.

"What happened?" Apollo asked as he lifted the kid up.

"Dunno," he muttered. "Something hit me from behind."

Apollo nodded and stood. He turned back to the viper that was powering up. The canopy was going down as the crew moved away. "Stop! Starbuck stop!" Apollo screamed.

But his words were lost as the engines reached full throttle and then the sleek craft leapt forwards, out into the gulf of space beyond.

"Starbuck – what in Hades?" Apollo muttered as he hit his thigh with frustration.

Behind him Greenbean climbed gingerly to his feet. "That was Starbuck?" Apollo nodded. "Frak, next time he wants to do my patrol I hope he just asks – I got a stinking headache now!"

"He's not doing your patrol, ensign," Apollo responded sadly. "What he's doing is going AWOL!" He ignored the sharp intake of breath from the shocked pilot behind him. "And I wish I knew why…."

Apollo left Greenbean nursing his head and darted over to the second viper ready for patrol, pausing on the way only to grab his own helmet. "What is Greenbean doing?" Jolly asked indignantly but something in the way Apollo looked at him, stopped him from complaining further.

"Get out of the viper," Apollo ordered.

The big flight sergeant looked shocked but did as he was told. In seconds Apollo was gunning the thrusters of the viper and blasting out into space.

"Starbuck!" Apollo worked hard at keeping his voice emotionless. "Starbuck do you read me?" He could see Starbuck's craft in front of him and he cursed when he realized the blond lieutenant was setting a course back to the planet he had been rescued from. "Starbuck, what in Hades are you doing?"

He waited a few seconds before trying again. "Lieutenant Starbuck I order you to turn your craft around and return to the Galactica now!"

The viper in front of him continued its silent, arrogant flight towards the planet as Apollo tried to keep his temper under control. "Starbuck! Starbuck – what are you doing? C'mon buddy, talk to me!"

Apollo banged his fist frustratedly on the console in front of him, desperately searching for a way to get through to his unresponsive friend. Finally he decided there was only one way. Hating himself none-the-less he said. "Lieutenant Starbuck, you are ignoring a direct order in flagrant violation of fleet procedure. I order you now to turn that viper around and surrender yourself to my custody immediately! I am warning you if you fail to comply with my instructions I will have no alternative but to take action accordingly!"

He waited, heart beating horrendously in his chest and ears itching to hear Starbuck's familiar relaxed drawl. "C'mon Bucko," Apollo murmured. "Don't make me do this!"

The com link remained dead save for a fleeting cackle of static. Then a voice came through causing hope to leap momentarily into Apollo's heart, only to be squashed when he perceived the owner of the voice. It was his father not Starbuck.

"Blue Leader, this is Galactica. What are you doing, Apollo?" Adama ordered.

"Galactica this is Blue Leader. I read you."

"Apollo, need I remind you we have a fuel crisis? There is an embargo on all non essential flights. What are you doing?"

"It's Starbuck, father."

"What's Starbuck?"

"In the other viper!"

There was an audible intake of breath over the com link. Adama's voice, when it came, was uncompromising. "Captain Apollo return to the Galactica now."

"But…"

"That's an order!"

Apollo signed. "Starbuck, do you read me?" he tried again, one last time.

"Captain Apollo!" Adama's voice boomed.

"OK," Apollo said defeatedly. "I'm coming!" He threw one last longing glance to where the ion trail of Starbuck's fast retreating viper still lit the sky. "I hope you know what you're doing, Starbuck," he breathed unhappily.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to L Zara for her comments, which I have sought to address in this chapter!

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* * *

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**Part 6**

"By all that is blessed!" Eweenator gasped as the figure stumbled into their camp, let out a grunt of pain and fell to the ground before them.

"I knew the prophecy was true!" Beagragon hissed. from. There was the hint of maniacal zeal flashing in his eye as he recognised the hair now matted sweatily about the head but still golden.

Magawincha was the only one that moved. Her heart lurched with both hope and pain when she perceived who it was groaning on the floor in agony before her. Not quite knowing how to react, she never-the-less rushed forward to sit beside the figure where it had fallen and she reached out her paw.

Blue eyes opened at her touch, veiled and dull. "Please," Starbuck moaned beseechingly as another wave of pain crashed through him. "Help me!" his voice was deep, gravelled and his pain was evident as his handsome features contorted. His legs came up and his hands down to clutch at his stomach and he moaned weakly.

Belatedly Eweenator and Beagragon rose from their haunches and stepped forward. "I knew he would return to us for so it was written and so it will be!" Beagragon hissed. "Quickly, we have lost much time. We must prepare him for it begins already!"

Starbuck's body contracted into spasm and he let out a louder groan of pain. "I can't…" he tried to sit up but the pain was too intense, it wracked through him and stole all of his strength. Sweat was dripping feverishly from him, his skin was almost grey and his breaths were coming in short, empty pants.

"Eweenator," Beagragon ordered. "Fetch tyroot. We must dull his pain; he will never survive long enough to reach promise unless we keep him strong." Eweenator rushed to obey. "Hold him, Magawincha," Beagragon continued. "Comfort him as you wish. I must prepare…"

Starbuck was only vaguely aware of the movements around him. He focused what energy he could on the sweet voice that came from close to his ear as it whispered soft, comforting words and he could feel the soothing touch on his forehead but it was distant and disappeared completely when another surge of pain welled through him. The pain started in the very depths of his stomach and radiated outward, touching every nerve, twisting them hideously until all he had was screaming in agony. Then it faded away to numbness and he was left gasping and weak, unable to comprehend the world around him, unable to do anything but wait, thankful for the respite, until he felt the telltale signs of another spasm begin and the fear of the upcoming pain tensed his muscles so that when it took him once more, every fibre screamed in discordant agony.

It had been different on the Galactica when he had awoken in the Life Centre he had felt calm and comfortably numb. He had lain quietly, content that every movement did not bring corresponding pain and that the eruptions in his guts seemed to have been quietened. He had seen the fear in Cassiopeia's eyes before she hid it behind her relief and he knew without asking that she had really feared for him. He had focused his conversation on his treatment for the fear in her had scared him immensely and she told him that his apparent recovery was because of the drugs that Salik had given him. His memory went smoky at that point and he could not recall how he had left the Life Centre. He had a vague recollection of a struggle but he pushed it away, the blistering thoughts in his fevered mind too molten for him to consider what he may have done.

What Cassiopeia had said appeared to be true, for once they began to work their way through his system as he tried to land the viper on the planet, his body had begun to spasm. He had managed the landing but it had not been one of his best, and he feared that the viper would never fly again. The pain had got worse and it was all he could do to climb out of the cockpit and make his way, stumbling through the forest from tree to tree, to collapse at the camp of the only beings that could help him.

He remembered his conversation with the beautiful woman entirely and he remembered his promise to her. He would do whatever it took; give whatever was needed to fulfil what she required. She had mesmerised him with the power of beauty, but it was the strength of her need that had made him willingly accept what she would do to him. It was worth the price he would pay. And so he had known exactly what he was losing. Known it as he had watched Cassiopeia walk away from him when she thought him sleeping, he had known he would never see her again and the loss had been a crushing pain for him. He had left the Galactica, stolen the viper and disobeyed a direct order from his superior officer and it had broken his heart. He had not found the strength to answer Apollo because the guilt had raged through him, he had known if he spoke to his long-time friend he may be undone and so he had forced himself to continue on resolutely.

He was losing everything he had ever held dear and yet he had known it was all worthwhile. He had found something more important than his own selfish need, his own desire. He had done it all for Kynan.

But now as he floundered in the agony of pain, somewhere deep in the rational part of his brain the thought struck him that it was too much! He had believed she would be there with him all the way, he believed she would share and support him through the overwhelming anguish but there was no presence within him except pain, no comfort except that from weak but soulful voice from outside and no certainty except that he, the consummate gambler had finally lost everything.

Panic flamed deep in his chest, already struggling lungs groaned at the further constriction as hot and fierce fear burned through him. "Kynan!" he desperately tried to call her to him but he could find no voice.

She did not answer him.

He was alone, so dreadfully alone with his pain and he feared he could not bear it.

* * *

"Report, Captain, please." Adama sat back in his chair and eyed his son minutely. 

Apollo stood to attention in front of his Commander, green eyes still flashing their anger and cheeks coloured. Adama knew his son was tamping down his emotion, striving to appear the calm leader of men he aspired to be, while deep inside the annoyance and worry raged through him. Annoyance at being ordered to return when the job as he saw it had not been completed and worry at Starbuck's strange and perilous behaviour.

Apollo licked his lips nervously but his voice was detached and distant as he began. "Lieutenant Starbuck left the Life Centre, took a Viper and returned to the planet we took him off yesterday, Sir."

Adama snorted, knowing how conflicted his son was between the need to carry out his duty but also the sense of betrayal towards his friend. Apollo was holding himself together well under the strain but his father could sense the emotions swirling below. Adama promised himself he would try to make this as easy as possible on all of them, but then again, it was not an easy situation, particularly as more facts were revealed.

The Commander sighed, suddenly feeling frustrated and constrained; he stood up and moved to the port. The sight of the vastness of the universe before them served, on occasion, to still his disquiet heart as he fought to steer a safe course for the Galactica and her crew. But not this time, the sight of the limitless black ocean made him feel only more humble and more anxious.

Adama took a deep breath. He regretted ordering Apollo back, leaving Starbuck to whatever awaited him down on that planet but it was the only reasonable decision he could make. Now as more of the facts became available to him, he still believed it to be the correct decision.

He turned back to the Captain who waited patiently. "Was he carrying out orders?" he asked.

Apollo flinched slightly. "None that I am aware of, Sir." Each response was clipped and offered only barely sufficient detail.

"Do we know why he returned to the planet?"

"No, Sir."

"Would you care to speculate, Captain?"

Apollo gulped. His eyes momentarily left those of the Commander to flick across to Colonel Tigh who sat to the left and then back again. "Further than the fact that his behaviour may be fuelled by the condition he was in when we found him yesterday, I cannot, Commander. We have insufficient data to make an informed guess."

"Your suggested course of action?" Adama asked.

"Let me go back to the planet and get him."

Tigh snorted and Adama turned to regard him. "Colonel?"

"As far as we know Starbuck went of his own accord, Sir, not only did he take out Ensign Greenbeen on the way, he also assaulted two security guards outside the Life Centre and Med Tech Cassiopeia was dazed and bleeding when Salik found her."

"He hit Cassiopeia?" The strain in Apollo was evident in the slight tremor in his voice. He was remembering the late night conversation he had had with Cassiopeia over the comm. Her eyes had been wide and wild but he had thought that as a result of Starbuck's escape not any physical hurt the blonde lieutenant had inflicted on her. Apollo's stomach lurched fearfully; Starbuck would not hurt Cassiopeia, surely?

Tigh shrugged. "She is refusing to elaborate on what did or did not happen. But, bearing all that in mind, even if we find him and bring him back who is to say he would not do the same again?"

"There's something on that planet," Apollo surmised. "If we keep him under observation until we are out of range then he could not return."

"There is a school of thought that says that we should keep him under more than observation," Tigh was obviously being circumspect with his choice of words but he was not careful enough as angry green eyes turned on him.

"Just what are you suggesting, Colonel?" Apollo spat, his anger barely controlled now.

Tigh held the challenging gaze. "You know as well as I, Apollo, military discipline must be maintained at all times. We can't have pilots assaulting people and then taking joyrides to planets whenever the mood takes them, especially now with our fuel shortage. No matter who is involved; due process must be seen to be followed."

"But we don't know why!" Apollo spat. "There could be any number of reasons why Starbuck went back. We can't make that judgement until we get him back! And you don't know if he assaulted anybody – he wouldn't hurt Cassiopeia, not for anything. Surely you can see that, father!"

"And I'm not saying that we should make any snap judgements. But you, yourself know he was the only one who could have hit Greenbeen," Tigh replied, keeping his voice calm and cool as he refused to be intimidated by Apollo's hard stare. "I am making the point that instructions must be followed and any warrior who disobeys a direct order must be suitably punished. If we do not do so then anarchy will rule."

Adama cleared his throat. "I do not think anyone would disagree with you, Colonel," he said. "But I think we are getting ahead of ourselves here. In order to punish the guilty, we must first review all the facts, and of course, we must have them in custody. Need I remind you that, in this particular case, the alleged perpetrator is not here. I need to make a decision on how I rectify that situation."

Apollo's wide eyes flashed at his father then. "Are you suggesting, what I think you're suggesting?" his voice was brittle.

"I must weigh the needs of the whole fleet against the need of its individual members," Adama said with a deep sigh. "We are sorely short of fuel and we must ensure that all journeys are essential and necessary."

Apollo glared at his father, anger chasing the initial shock from his face. "You can't leave him!"

"Look at the facts, Apollo. Starbuck went down there of his own accord, you ordered him to come back, even threatened him with the consequences if he didn't."

"I would never have shot him down!" Apollo spat. "Like I would never leave him!"

Adama ignored the remark and continued. "He paid you no heed; that in itself is gross insubordination. Added to that is the further issue that Dr Salik made us aware of, maybe Starbuck knows what is inside him, maybe he has gone because of it, maybe he does not want to be brought back!"

"He would have told me!" Apollo snapped. "He would not have gone, not without telling me why, not without…" he stopped.

And that is the crux of it, Adama thought. He had an overwhelming urge to rush to his boy then and take him in his arms as he had long years before when Apollo had been inconsolable after Zac with his grasping chubby baby hands, had broken the celestial dome from his elder brother's model of a battlestar. There was the same bewildered look now in his eyes as Apollo pleaded, "You can't leave him there! This is Starbuck we're talking about, father!"

By the Lords of Kobol, Starbuck! Adama thought. If you had to go you could have explained to us why, made us understand at least, eased this guilt of not knowing, of not understanding and thus being unable to make that informed decision Apollo speaks of. In his head Adama finished the sentence his son had balked at seconds before 'not without saying goodbye!' And that was the pain that he felt just as strongly as his son; after all the experiences and time they had shared with Starbuck, surely they deserved an explanation from the irrepressible pilot who was almost a son. Adama squashed the bitter thought and the pain it brought with it. Starbuck had done what he had and there was no changing it, whatever his reasons they did not know now and they possibly never would.

It did no good to dwell on it, so Adama turned his intellect back to the current problem, and said. "He is a member of the fleet Apollo, and will receive no less consideration than any other but neither will he receive more. The fuel that it will take to go back may be better used for other purposes and I don't have to tell you our time is limited. We cannot afford to stop nor wait any time."

Apollo pulled himself back to attention. "And it is your decision and your decision alone to make, Commander," he said his voice raw, his face a study in blankness. "I think I've said all that I can. I'll be waiting in my quarters to be advised. By the Lords of Kobol I pray you make the right choice!" He saluted formally and then left the room.

Adama let out a long breath, moved back to his desk and slumped down. Tigh regarded him with sympathetic eyes. "Would I do it for anyone else, Tigh?" Adama asked. His face was drawn and pale and his eyes suddenly appeared dimmed by a sheen of worry.

"Yes sir, I think you would," Tigh said softly. "Do you remember the story you told me of when you were special guest of honour at the Academy on Caprica, and you took formal inspection." Adama arched his eyebrows and signalled his remembrance as Tigh continued, "And you refused to give best cadet award to Apollo even though you and he and everyone else knew he deserved it?"

Adama nodded wearily. "Are you saying that, in my intention to be impartial, I lose my objectivity and swing too far the other way like some ill-disciplined pendulum?"

Tigh smiled. "I am merely pointing out, Sir, that it is easy, in situations like this to overcompensate. I would be the first to say that Starbuck is unreliable, unruly and in short a pain in the astrum but he is also courageous, loyal and one of the best Warriors we have. To give up on him simply to save an amount of fuel that will keep the Galactica going for a few more centars seems vastly unfair, to give up on him to ensure that you are perceived as an unbiased leader is simply not right."

Adama nodded. "I believe you are correct, old friend. Have Apollo prepare a shuttle." He smiled, his eyes twinkling once more. "And remind me to inform Starbuck on his return that you are, indeed, his greatest fan!"

Tigh shuddered. "Perish the thought!" he hissed as he stood up. "The man is arrogant enough, tell him that and he'll be completely insufferable!"

* * *

TBC 


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

"Suck, Chosen One!"

The voice penetrated serenely into Starbuck's blazing feverishness. "Take strength from the root."

He dimly felt something touch his lip and he was too weak to spit it out as it was forced into his mouth. The voice was compelling and it brought a hint of peace to his confused state so he did as he was bid. He lacked the strength to think as his body continued to be ravaged by the retching and the straining. He simply existed in the heat of his pain and discomfort. He did not know how long he had lain powerless. Time, like everything else had no sense to him. His life was simply the moment and all that stretched out behind him in the comfort of memory and all that was to be lived with the joy of hope was lost to him. He counted only by the intensity of his pain as it scorched through him and his stomach convulsed uncontrollably.

And yet the liquid that the voice commanded him to drink was cool and refreshing. He felt is as a relieving balm as it swirled around his mouth and as he swallowed it along his swollen, parched throat. He could not open his eyes, so he clenched them shut and forced all of his remaining strength into sucking deeply of the liquid and relishing its soothing affect. He lay back in to the warm earth, feeling a sudden connection with its comforting softness and waited. Slowly his straining muscles relaxed, his stomach stopped rolling like the seas of Caprica and the nausea left him.

Eventually he managed to open his eyes. Doe eyes of deep chestnut looked down at him with a surprising amount of sympathy. As his senses returned he felt a cool softness mop along his forehead. "Thank you," he whispered weakly.

The features of the hairy equine face before him seemed to shift a little – was that what passed for a smile? Starbuck did not know and he lacked the will to contemplate it further. Instead his lips sought the straw and he sucked more of the comforting liquid.

"What is it?" he asked hoarsely.

"Tyroot," the deer creature replied.

"It's good stuff!" Starbuck breathed, his irrepressible spirit surfaced. "I think later we should talk about marketing it to the fleet!"

The creature's face flared in puzzlement. "You must rest," it said. "You need your strength."

He nodded but already the tyroot had made him feel so much better that his mind was slowly finding its way out of the feverish fuzz it had dwelt in. Questions bombarded him but he lacked the will to formulate them into words. So he simply let out a long breath and enjoyed the soft stroking of the creature beside him.

"You are extremely beautiful," the animal said.

Starbuck snorted softly. "I don't feel it," he retorted. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

The creature seemed to swell proudly. "I am Magawincha," it said. "I am here to look after you, Chosen One."

"Magaw…. Magawinch…" Starbuck frowned as he stumbled over the name. His thoughts were still fluttering through his head like a drunken butterfly. "Can I call you Mags?" he asked finally in frustration.

Deep inside Magawincha's heart was somersaulting with glee. He was talking to her, not only that, he was giving her one of those stunning smiles that reminded her of nothing so much as the sun breaking through the rain clouds and bestowing the warmth of life to all but this sun was only for her. "Of course, Chosen One!"

"Starbuck," he said softly, trying to sit up. "Call me Starbuck, please."

"Starbuck." Magawincha repeated, feeling the sensation the strange name made on her tongue as she spoke it. "You bless me too well," she muttered, head down modestly.

He reached out, a hand shuddering with weakness but still able to gently lift her snout until their eyes met. "No, I…" He started but his whole body suddenly convulsed as electricity sparked through his whole being. He shrieked in shock and then fell backwards, his balance lost as his limbs jerked and spasmed out of his control.

As he fell his wayward arm knocked Magawincha over too. "Beagragon!" she squealed.

The Keeper of the Monolith, Protector of the People had been fulfilling his duties in the upmost earnest. The writings were quite clear; once the Chosen One had revealed himself the joyous news must be broadcast to all the people that remained. As was the ancient way of his kind, Beagragon had been beating the required tattoo onto the hollowed out log that had long served as the ancient method of communication all morning. He did not, however, believe that there were any others of their kind on the planet; the drums had been silent for many years and his little band had seen no sign of any others; they had been alone. But the writings had to be followed implicitly that, above all things, was his duty. Now he ceased his drumming and reluctantly moved across to where Magawincha was pulling herself to her feet gingerly.

He cast a jaundiced eye over the Chosen One's still thrashing form and let out a long sigh. "The second phase begins," he pronounced sternly. "The spasms will be violent and uncontrollable. He has expelled the unclean liquids from his body, now he must eject the impure spirits; their passing will be brutal and vicious. But so it will be. We will wait for this one to calm and then we will tie him appropriately."

"Tie him?" Magawincha questioned as Eweenator came up behind them, her ears twitching with interest.

Beagragon fixed her with his most masterful stare. "So it is written. We cannot allow him to injure himself before the prescribed time and the impure spirits will not be vanquished unless he fights fiercely."

"But…"

"Do you question me, child?" Beagragon thundered, nostrils twitching angrily.

Magawincha dropped her head in submission. "Of course not! It's just… just…" She ran her tongue nervously around her lips. She did not like to answer back to Beagragon, and normally would not even think to do so, after all what was she compared to him? But there was something about the Chosen One, Starbuck, something that caused her to act differently. It felt wrong to treat him in such a way.

Beagragon sighed condescendingly. "You mean well, Magawincha, but now, more than ever, we must be slaves to the scriptures. We reach a crucial point in the process, to question now is to weaken our power! To question is to introduce the concept of failure – would you have that burden on your soul, Magawincha?"

Her eyes widened in fright. "Of course not!" she wailed.

Beagragon nodded. "Eweenator fetch the stakes and twine we have prepared. We must keep strong hearts now or all will fail!"

Feeling cowed and a little stupid, Magawincha looked down at Starbuck. His fit did now seem to be quietening. She moved back to him and gently wiped away the trickle of spittle that dripped from the side of his mouth. His eyes opened at her touch and again she felt something deep inside tumble over itself.

"What's happening, Mags?" he asked, so weakly she had to bend in close to hear.

She smiled as reassuringly as she could. "You are doing so well," she whispered.

Her voice was overlaid by Beagragon's who boomed from close by. "You have survived the first phase, Chosen One. You are cleansed!"

Starbuck groaned. "The first phase?" he repeated weakly, his eyes never leaving Magawincha's. "How many…." An aftershock crashed through him then and his body tensed once more.

"There are four phases," Beagragon intoned in the voice of a school master. "Before you reach your promise. Each will test your resolve more than the one before. You are blessed; you were born to suffer and from your suffering shall come new life! So it is written!"

Starbuck moaned. "I never…" he began.

"Peace, Chosen One!" Beagragon continued firmly. "You are in safe hands now. Save your strength and give up your fear, there is no turning back. Trust me – I shall see that the rituals are followed. You have already given yourself to us, now let us take all you have and create something glorious!"

Starbuck tried to move forward as fear flashed through him but his strength was gone. He shivered miserably as he sensed his body prepare to spasm once more. Eweenator arrived with the twine and began to tie his hands as Beagragon instructed. She moved down to his ankles and soon Starbuck was unable to move. As the convulsion crashed through him his body flexed beneath the bindings and he moaned pitifully.

"All will be well!" Magawincha's voice came to soothe his battered conscience. She gently placed the straw in his mouth. "Drink the tyroot; it will give you strength."

"Mags," Starbuck struggled. "I never understood, not really. Kynan didn't tell me this! I can't!"

"Shush!" Magawincha's eyes were wide with sympathy. "You must play your part, Starbuck! Never lose sight of what you do here. You sacrifice much but remember the prize. Be strong and brave and do not lose your resolve, not now. I will be with you always; take my strength, my belief Chosen One!"

Starbuck nodded unconvinced. He closed his eyes and looked inwards. "Kynan!" he shouted. "Kynan, we need to talk now!"

But again the seed did not answer him.

* * *

"Any sign?" Apollo asked working hard to keep his tone positive. 

Boomer shook his head gloomily. "They were here, we know but that's about all."

They stood in the clearing from where they had rescued Starbuck. Both could see the signs of the camp that had been there but it was just as obvious that the creatures had moved on.

Apollo shivered. It was raining; a dull, dank drizzle that made the surrounding forest oppressive and lifeless. It had also washed away any signs that may have helped them. The whole area was now covered with grey, cloying mud that shifted with every movement. Water puddled in the undulations, dripping from trees and seeping between boots and clothing into places that should always remain dry! It was miserable and fast turning out to be pointless.

"What about the shuttle?" Boomer asked.

Since depositing their small group, Jolly had taken the shuttle to reconnoitre the surrounding area. He was flying a pre-computed pattern that would give him the widest coverage while conserving enough fuel to ensure their return flight to Galactica.

Apollo sighed and banged his fist against his thigh in frustration. "Jolly reports he has sighted another six of the monolith structures scattered about the planet but mainly quite close. Each is found at the centre of an area of seemingly healthy vegetation that quickly dissipates as you move away from it. It swiftly becomes lifeless desert that covers most of the surface."

"No sign of Starbuck?"

"No. Jolly has reported seeing a number of the deer creatures but they have fled to deeper forest when he flew nearer. Apart from that, and a few smaller animals there has been nothing else."

"We're drawing blanks and running out of time," Boomer sighed. He glanced away. "Bucko, what in Hades have you got yourself into now?" he sighed.

"Sirs!" Ensign Cree came to a skidding halt before his superior officers. His face was flushed and his wet hair was dripping into his eyes but his body was tense with excitement.

"Go ahead, Cree," Apollo prompted.

"Sir, we came across a group of the deer. They seemed to be moving purposefully, so we followed them." He stopped, gulping for breath. Apollo passed a water bottle into his hand and waited while he drank. "They met up with another group, so there was at least fifteen of them. Then we heard it."

"Heard what?"

"Banging, Sir, like drums. It was echoing through the forest like some alarm call. The deer appeared to be moving towards it. Marton carried on but I came back to report."

"Very good, Ensign Cree. Get yourself some warm food." Apollo turned back to the Lieutenant. "What do you think, Boomer?"

Boomer shrugged. "It's all we got – we better check it out.

They made slow progress through the forest. As they moved the landscape changed abruptly from the verdant evergreens that were scattered around the area they had landed to an area of deciduous trees. However, these trees, though they may once have been impressive, were now only twisted trunks and branches that clutched upwards toward the indifferent sky as if it could provide them with sanctuary from the insidious mud. Apollo did not know what season it was but in this place it certainly appeared they were in the grip of a damp, misty autumn. There was no greenery, no life, and to make it even more foreboding everything was shrouded in a grey mist. It smelt of nothing so much as death and decay, a putrid pong that made Apollo's bowels lurch in disgust.

The silence of the place was broken by the dull drumming which, although soft at first, strengthened as they grew closer to its source. It echoed through the trees like the heart beat of some gigantic monster and it chilled the resolve of the Warriors as they drew closer.

"There's one!" A shout went up from Cree.

Apollo lifted his head and saw the flash of movement over to their left. He took a snap decision, knowing that his options were reducing with every centon. "Get it!" he shouted.

There followed a slithering, slippery chase where more than one Colonial Warrior ended up on his butt in the grasping mud. The deer was quicker and more used to the conditions but the Warriors were stronger and through sheer force of numbers they managed to corner the beast in a grove with a steep climb behind it.

Apollo moved forward and knelt beside the quivering beast. "We mean you no harm," he said, reaching out to stroke its short fur reassuringly. "Please do not be afraid."

The creature stiffened at his touch. Wide eyes lifted to meet his own. "Like you meant Slynavo no harm?" Its voice trembled as violently as the rest of it. "I saw what you did to him with your sticks of fire."

Apollo regarded the creature. "You were there when we rescued Starbuck?" he asked. The creature nodded slowly. "Then you know we mean only his good."

"You took him away!" The anger made the creature brave and strong. "You would have ruined everything!"

Apollo gulped. "I did not understand," he admitted. "Starbuck came back to you, did he not?" Again the creature nodded. "Will you help me to understand that now?" He kept his voice as calm and controlled as he could. "What is your name? he asked softly.

The deer snorted. "I am Magawincha!" she said proudly. "I found the Chosen One. I watched over him through the cleansing and he called me, Mags." Suddenly the creature seemed to grow smaller and crumple in on itself. It let out a strange sniffing noise and it took Apollo a few centons to realise that it as crying. Such a human characteristic on alien features made him feel strangely uncomfortable but what it said next caused his head to snap upwards and a shiver of frozen fear to run along his spine. "I vowed never to leave him," Magawincha sniffed miserably. "Not while he still lived."

* * *

TBC 


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

"Captain!" Boomer's outraged voice smote through the air. Apollo knew why the lieutenant sounded so indignant; he felt exactly the same but made himself tamp down his emotion.

After meeting Magawincha in the dead forest and calming the blade of pure fear that had stabbed at his heart following her disclosure, Apollo had spent a great deal of time speaking with her. She was timid and afraid and obviously had little experience of interacting with beings other than those of the small group she had spent her life with, but eventually she had learnt to trust him and had told him much of what she knew about her culture and the events that were taking place now. Finally she had even agreed to lead him to this most sacred of places but only after she had forced him to promise that he would not interfere. And it was that vow to her that made him control his outrage now.

In this place the rain had stopped which was a blessing they all rejoiced in but even here the mists hung heavy in the air. The vegetation was lush with green trees climbing towards the sky above which remained stubbornly grey; no sun appeared to pierce its bleak apathy. The ground had soft green moss on it that was springy to the touch but its cover was only sporadic and the awful mud still seemed to hold sway. Apollo could not shake the feeling of growing doom that seemed to emanate for everything on this planet. It seemed to eat into his soul tainting it with unassailable despair and though he fought hard to control it, he feared it would ultimately be too strong for him.

As Magawincha brought them to the glade, there had been many deer creatures milling across their path, some munching softly on the moss, others throwing curious glances at the strange group that had just arrived and others whispering secretively.

Magawincha told Apollo this sudden influx of creatures had been what had caused her to flee her people. She had thought Beagragon's band had been the only ones left, the truly blessed who had been chosen for the ritual but when more and more of her people had arrived, drawn by the drums, and proclaiming their own superiority and right to serve the Chosen One, Magawincha's world had been rocked. She found she could no longer get close to Starbuck, always there were others, eager to serve him, eager to use their heavier weight or more advanced years to explain why she was no longer needed.

Desperate, she had run to Beagragon but he had been too engaged in trying to argue his position against the leaders of other bands and had no time to fight Magawincha's battles.

Magawincha had tried one last time to see Starbuck but he was in a world she could not reach, a prisoner of the spasms that rocked him and unable to speak or communicate in any way; he was completely at the mercy of those who had forced Magawincha away. Dispirited and alone, no longer able to fight the inevitable, she had wondered away from the glade, sure her own place in history had been stolen from her and equally sure that she was betraying Starbuck, leaving him when he needed her more than ever.

At first she had been paralysed with fear when the outlandish Warriors had taken her. But the brown haired one who led them seemed so friendly. When he spoke of Starbuck to her she could perceive a warm glow in those the piercing green eyes and she knew he cared deeply for the golden one. Once she believed that, and coupled with her own festering dissatisfaction at the way she had been treated, it did not take her long to decide that she would take him wherever he asked, even to the scared place. The world for Magawincha had always been simple and her faith, though strong, was grounded in the straightforward concept that she must obey unquestionably and only in her own deference would she find the way to true happiness. She had followed Beagragon's instructions completely and unthinkingly for many years. When he was not there, she unconsciously sought out another to direct and instruct her in the way he had done. Apollo, as leader of this troop, fit the role completely for Magawincha and she soon began to obey without question.

She had led them; Apollo, Boomer and Cassiopeia, along the tree lined walkway, anxious to be past the curious stares of her people. They had come to a stop at the mossy mound that seemed to grow out of the earth. Behind it a grey monolith reached dispassionately to the sky but Apollo's eyes rested on it only fleetingly; his attention focused instead on the person on top of the mound.

Starbuck was naked save for a piece of coarse material that stretched across his middle, covering his upper thighs and groin area. His skin was grimy and stained by the mud but beneath that layer of dirt it appeared almost translucent with a strange ethereal glow. His eyes were tightly closed and he was sucking strongly on a tube which contained a greenish liquid being drawn from a bowl at his side – he looked like a babe at a nipple. His face was streaked with dirt and dried sweat, his chin shadowed by the growth of a couple of days stubble and his hair matted about his head with mud and grime. His physical appearance was cause enough for concern but Apollo was horrified to see his friend was tied in place on the mound. Twine was wrapped around both of his wrists and attached to stakes that had been driven into the ground at either side of his waist. His ankles were likewise restrained and there was twine stretched across his body at his knees, his chest and his neck. All of which had the affect of holding him completely immobile.

Apollo made to move forward but he hesitated and watched in fascination as a violent spasm started at the the tips of Starbuck's toes and washed through him, contracting every single muscle in his body in a rapid contraction. The blonde lieutenant, eyes still tight shut let the straw fall from his mouth, a feeble gasp escaping his lips as the wave washed by, he tightened in his bounds and then relaxed again.

"It is nearly over." A voice said from Apollo's right.

He turned to see a deer creature regarding him with those wide, unblinking eyes. Although they all looked frightening similar to Apollo's untutored glance, he fancied there was something familiar about this one. His mind went back to the glade. "Beagragon?" he guessed.

The creature bowed its head. "Captain Apollo," he said.

"What do you mean 'it's nearly over'?" Apollo asked fear fluttering in his stomach once more.

"This phase," Beagragon said his tone neutral. "The next is thankfully calmer. He will do himself no harm; the thrashing will stop and we will be able to release the bounds. He may even be able to speak with you."

"I want my Med Tech to see him now!" Apollo spat defiantly.

"It is not necessary," Beagragon responded smoothly.

Apollo glared at him. "I think it is!"

Beagragon nodded slowly. "Very well but Magawincha informs me you promised not to interfere. I must warn you if you do so you will kill him and all he has suffered thus far will be for naught!"

Apollo snorted, flexing his fists impotently. "Cass!" he directed over his shoulder and the blonde Med Tech rushed forwards fighting to quash the emotion that ran through her. She concentrated hard, pushing the thought from her mind the identity of this miserable figure who needed her aid. Not daring to allow her true feelings to rise to the surface, she sought solace in her clinical detachment and held on to it grimly.

Boomer moved to whisper in his Captain's ear. "Apollo, we cannot let this continue. Look at him! Look at what they are doing to him!"

"I know!" Apollo snapped. He liked it no better than Boomer but he could see no alternative at the present time. He felt powerless and inadequate and he snorted impatiently.

Cassiopeia was scanning Starbuck's jerking body. "I can't…" she stopped, as her grip on her objectivity slipped and then she let out a shriek as the whole of Starbuck's stomach contracted in on itself and then flopped out again. "What is in there?" she whispered in horror.

Magawincha had moved around to the pilot's other side, taking advantage of the fact that his other servers had sidled away fearfully when the humans had arrived. "The seed," she said firmly, her eyes glinting with zeal. "It grows!"

Cassiopeia looked at the creature beside her, her mouth scowling in distaste. She shook her head. "Whatever it is, it's killing him!"

Magawincha nodded. "Of course; that is the price he will pay," she said. "He agreed to it."

Cassiopeia turned back to Apollo. "My scanner is reading pure nonsense – nothing is where it's supposed to be. But I don't need that to tell me he is dying, Apollo. We have to get him out of here, soon!"

The Captain stood motionless as a wave of impotent rage rushed through him. He knew what Boomer and Cass were saying. He could feel their eyes wild with fear and anger boring into him, pleading with him. Still he had given his word to Magawincha, but what was the power of his word when Starbuck's life was at stake?

He glanced down as another contraction tightened and then released Starbuck's muscles. He let out a long breath then turned back to Beagragon. "He will be able to talk during the next phase?" he asked.

Beagragon nodded. "His heart is strong, his mind too. I do not see that it will be a problem for him. The next phase is the calm before the storm; a chance to gather himself for the final reckoning."

Apollo looked back at Starbuck. "Then I will wait," he said firmly. "Starbuck flew himself down here after we had rescued him. He had his reasons; I want to hear them from his own lips. Only then will I be able to make a decision on what we should do."

"Apollo!" Cassiopeia was shocked. "He's dying!" She looked to Boomer for support but the lieutenant's empathetic eyes did not waiver from his Captain.

"Boomer," Apollo began after Beagragon had left. "I want you to find out everything you can about this 'process'. They talk about writings and scriptures – take the men and find them!"

"Of course, Captain!" With a last lingering look over his shoulder the Lieutenant moved away.

"Cass," Apollo moved to embrace the distraught Med Tech. "I know how you feel, believe me because I am feeling it too. But you know when he was on Galactica Starbuck was not right. Think what he did to you to escape – we both know he would not ordinarily hurt you for all the twelve colonies. We have to wait. I have to talk to him, Cass. Do you see that?"

She nodded slowly. "But I want to help him," she said. "I don't want to see any man in pain but Starbuck least of all."

Apollo gently mopped away the tear that ran down her cheek. "You can make him as comfortable as you can; you and Magawincha both. Maybe that's all any of us can do."

* * *

"'Pollo."

A soft,weak voice pierced through Apollo's reverie. He had been sitting beside Starbuck for centars, sometimes stroking him gently, others simply watching, powerless as the spasm wracked through his friend's body. Magawincha and Cassiopeia had been present too but both seemed to have moved away at this point. Now Apollo looked down to see blue eyes, dulled of their normal intensity regarding him.

"Starbuck!" he breathed. Once more he resisted the urge he had been resisting all the time he had knelt beside his friend; the need to untie those fraking bindings and take his friend in his arms, only this time it was even more difficult to subdue. He forced himself to make do with gently stroking the blonde hair darkened by sweat and dirt. "Starbuck," he repeated.

To his surprise the pale and tired features broke into that familiar award-winning smile. "'Pollo," he breathed, his voice low and strained. "What are you doing here?" The words were slurred as if the pilot had indulged in one too many ambrosias again but Apollo had seen his friend in such a state often enough to decipher his meaning now.

"Looking for you," Apollo tried to match the smile. "Why else would I be on some forsaken planet, up to my elbows in mud while the Galactica sails away into space! How do you feel?"

Starbuck gulped. "I…" he stopped and licked his lips. "You need to go back," he said.

"Not without you, buddy," Apollo responded.

Starbuck tried to shake his head. "Can't move," he whispered weakly.

"Here," Apollo ignored the outraged howl from behind him, where Beagragon hovered, and began to undo the twine at Starbuck's wrists, chest and neck. Then he finally took hold of the pilot and lifted his upper body, clutching it to his own in a long embrace. "I missed you, buddy," he murmured as he placed a chaste kiss on top of the other man's head.

Starbuck's body was boiling and sweat seemed to be leeching out of every pore. He shuddered in Apollo's strong arms but the spasms did not increase in intensity. The two men stayed together for a long time, each simply enjoying the closeness of the other, eventually Apollo lay Starbuck gently back onto the moss.

Starbuck smiled again but this time it was a sad, melancholy expression. "I have to do this," he said softly.

Apollo brushed the hair away from those blue eyes. "Do what?"

Starbuck gulped. "She offered me so much, Apollo. She offered me a place, a family, a purpose. I've done nothing all my life that wasn't for me. How could I refuse what she offered?"

"That's simply not true, Starbuck – you are the bravest Warrior I know. Why do this?"

"I didn't get a choice but if I had I would have chosen this."

"You're not making sense, Bucko. You're talking in riddles." Apollo tried to keep control of his temper. "Can't you understand - this is killing you! Why would you choose it? And what is 'it' anyway?"

Starbuck sighed. "I grant you she didn't say it would be this painful but, hey, I never was one for details any way. You know me, any sign of glory and I'll rush right in there especially to save the pretty girl!" His flinched and gritted his teeth as further pain flashed through him.

"Let Cass give you a painkiller."

Starbuck shook his head stubbornly. "No, it has to be the way, it's written."

Apollo snorted, biting back his growing frustration. "What is written and how do you know? Why believe any of it, Starbuck? She wasn't honest about the pain."

Starbuck's smile was rueful. "You know me, Apollo – always bet on the long shot – the rewards are so much higher when you win."

"But what if you don't win!"

Starbuck's smile was brilliant. "I always win, Apollo! You know that! System can't fail!" But he was suddenly tired, a confused shadow passed across his eyes and his head lolled back to the moss as his energy left him. He let out a strangled weak cough, and Apollo watched as a small trickle of blood meandered from the side of his mouth.

"Arrrh," Beagragon's voice, which Apollo was fast beginning to hate, came from beside him. "The third phase begins – the bleeding."

"What?" Apollo could no longer control his horror.

Starbuck weakly wiped away at his cheek with the back of his hand. His glazed eyes gazed dumbly at the scarlet streak they saw there. "Frak," he whispered weakly. "I'm leaking!" His eyes rolled back up into his head and letting out a soft sigh he fell back onto the mound beneath him.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Apollo gently let go on the unconscious Starbuck and looked up to see a bigger deer creature had stalked up to them, behind him was assembled a whole mob of the creatures in apparent support.

Apollo sensed the animosity between Beagragon and this newcomer immediately as the bigger animal began. "Unbelievers are not welcome. They bring bad spirits and humours which could damage the process. Who allowed this to happen?"

Beagragon snorted. "You know I did, Fallinfech," he stated. "I am leader here. It was my place that the Chosen One showed himself! I am the one to decide!"

Fallinfech seemed to pull himself to a greater height. "You are nothing, Beagragon!" he snapped. "You have but two immature females to support you. I am the power here – my band is bigger and stronger than any other. Now you will do as I say!"

Apollo felt his heart sink. Not only was Starbuck in big trouble, it also appeared the deer creatures had issues and conflicts of their own. He stepped forward, his hand on the butt of his blaster, a full head and shoulders above any of the deer creatures.

"I may be an unbeliever!" he spat with authority. "But you have one of my men here and I am not leaving him!"

Fallinfeck looked up at the imposing figure and Apollo noted for future reference the flicker of fear that ran across his silky haunches. "Very well," he conceded and then turned back to Beagragon. "But you cannot cut us out!"

Beagragon snorted. "I would never dream to do so. I follow the scriptures minutely!"

"Then you will allow me to be present with the Chosen One at all times?"

Beagragon sighed, avoiding Apollo's stare, he considered the facts. His band was small and if this came to a fight they would be overcome immediately. Fallinfeck was simply asking to be involved and if he was, then he could protect Beagragon's band as well as his own. He inclined his head. "Of course," he agreed.

Apollo shook his head. Starbuck's life was seeping away in the most painful of ways and he seemed unable to do anything to help his friend, while these strange deer-like creatures seemed intent on making the whole experience a spectator sport! Where the hell was Boomer? Hopefully he would find something that they could use to put an end to this whole sorry mess!

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

Apollo's face was drawn with strain; Adama could see it even across the miles of cold space that separated them. No wonder! Each successive report his son had filed was more horrific than the last and this final one was the worst.

Adama shivered with revulsion. He felt as if the burden he bore was simply too great and he had an intense urge to just walk away – sometimes situations were just too horrendous to face, even for someone with his inner strength and resilience. And this appeared to be one of those times.

After all they had suffered with the destruction of the colonies and their subsequent flight was is too much to hope that they would be afforded a little peace; a time to relax and restore their depleted energy and optimism, a time to simply live, without the constant fear for their very lives? Instead they seemed to lurch from one disaster to another. Rarely had the pressure of command felt this impossibly onerous.

Adama took a long draw of his java and ignored the way his hand shook as he lifted the cup to his mouth. He should really get down to the Life Centre for a med evaluation but there was never enough time.

Apollo's report had been long and detailed but it did not begin to cover any of the questions in Adama's mind. Nor did it do anything except intensify the fear; stark and brutal, that shivered through him.

Boomer had researched as much as he could. He had sent men to each of the obelisks that Jolly had found. The report from each was the same – they appeared to be simply blocks of stone, ancient monuments reaching blindly to the sky, but beneath each they found a copy of identical manuscripts. All were the same; covered with no words but beautifully drawn pictures – pictures that told so much and so little. They depicted the coming of a golden being, the process he would endure and the last showed the birth of a race of beings in the golden one's image.

If it had not been so horrific, Adama would have chuckled at the irony. Starbuck; a messiah! A progenitor of a whole new race of beings in his image. It did not bear thinking about and indeed, Colonel Tigh had looked quite sick at the thought of it!

And yet it appeared to be true. Everything the pictures foretold had come true thus far and Boomer had been able to extract more information on the process Starbuck was undergoing from Beagragnon too. The cleansing, the ejection of impure spirits (privately Adama had raised an eye at that, silently thinking that such a process for Starbuck would surely take an inordinate amount of time), the bleeding and the final promise. Each phase worse than the last and each one seemingly designed to haemorrhage the life out of the blonde lieutenant.

But how could it be so? And what could he do to stop it and save his man? Adama had ordered the whole of Galactica's databases searched to find anything that could help Starbuck but they had drawn a complete blank.

And now Apollo was telling him the moment was drawing near. His son was requesting leave to stay on the planet to be with Starbuck until the very end.

Adama sighed. He would have to slow the Galactica to a stop and live with the risk that the safe distance they had built up between themselves and their Cylon pursuers would be eaten away. Still Adama knew he would live with that risk.

"How is Starbuck?" he asked.

"Unbelievably calm and brave," Apollo responded. "He appears to be resigned to the whole thing. The intense pain has thankfully stopped. If I didn't know better I'd think he was enjoying the whole experience – being waited on hand and foot. He told me he was 'making the most of it!'"

Adama shook his head. "In times of adversity out true mettle is revealed," he muttered. He looked up to see his son's image waiting patiently. "The Galactica will wait for you and your men, Captain. Bring them all home as best you can. In the meantime we will continue to pray for some divine intervention. How are you, son?"

There was only a slight drop in the shoulders before Apollo pulled himself back. "It's the hardest thing I have ever done, to watch him slipping away and be able to do nothing." He gulped. "But I will be there at the end for him."

"Hope, Apollo," Adama said. "It is a powerful thing. Hold on to it. Give Starbuck all our wishes; let him know we are all thinking of him. Keep me informed of developments."

"Of course, Commander."

The screen went dead and Adama leaned back into his chair closing his eyes as a pinprick of pain centred in his forehead before radiating outwards. "Starbuck, Starbuck, Starbuck," he muttered. "How do you get yourself into these situations?"

Memories of the irrepressible blond Lieutenant and the scrapes he had survived flooded through Adama then. He did not even try to stop the smile that instantly quirked up his lips at such thoughts. He opened his eyes and glanced around his office until they came to rest on the pictures he had on the shelves by the door. Pictures of too many lost already, he thought, not another now. He glimpsed the one of Apollo and Starbuck, shoved at the back out of sight – Adama had worried that he should have a picture of two of his pilots and not the others on show – of his son maybe but of his son's wing man? Hardly the etiquette of a neutral commander but then Starbuck was a character whose complete disregard for normal protocol seemed to cause others to break the rules too.

The Commander stood up and moved to pick up the picture. He gulped as he glanced down at the two bright faces shining with the passion and hope of youth. It had been taken at their graduation from the Academy; Apollo was looking sternly at the camera, every inch the diligent Ensign. Starbuck on the other hand was languidly leaning on Apollo's shoulder, sucking on a fumerillo, looking over to the right, where Adama seemed to remember there had been a number of girls who were calling to him with somewhat suggestive remarks. Adama remembered the disgusted mutterings of the two Commanders and one Colonel he had been standing with at the time. Oh yes, military discipline and Lieutenant Starbuck had never quite seen eye to eye! That of course was why the blonde had ended up under Adam's command in the first place – no other Battlestar Commander wanted the high maintenance that came with him! And yet for all his rule-breaking and ill-discipline, the Commander knew he would not swap Starbuck for any other Colonial Warrior he had ever met. Time and again the young Lieutenant had risked everything he had and proved his bravery to keep Galactica safe. He was quite simply one of the best.

Adama found himself captivated by the twinkle in the eye of the young man in the picture. He chuckled softly. "I cannot bring myself to believe this is the end, my boy," he mused, running his finger over the image. "Making the most of it is all you're ever done, isn't it? And there is a part of me that believes your luck will hold and you will walk away from even this! The vain hopes of a sad old man, maybe, but I still believe! Find a way, Starbuck, do what you must but survive this."

He sat quietly in the dark for a long time. His mind was buzzing with questions; everything Apollo had told him plus the latest report from Dr Wilker who had been hard at work analysing the information and samples Apollo's patrol had sent back. His main conclusion seemed to be that the planet was unstable and by all accounts seemed to be dying.

Adama sighed. So many things did not make sense; so many pieces were missing and their loss was nagging at the Commander's mind. Was he missing something obvious and big? Something that would help Starbuck?

He glanced back at the printout he had been reading before Apollo had delivered his report. Dr Wilker had analysed the contents of the substance that Starbuck was been given as a painkiller – tyroot it seemed to be called. The results were startling; the liquid appeared to have remarkable similarities with tylium – the fuel of the fleet; the fuel they were running so desperately short of! Wilker had gone so far as to hypothesise they could come from the same chemical family. After getting over the initial shook that Starbuck was being dosed up with viper fuel (and the possible consequences thereof, which did not bear thinking about!) Adama had ordered Wilker to do more work – was it a substitute, could the fleet use it to aid them in their current dire straits?

And what was the link between them and this dying planet? Why had Starbuck been chosen? What had caused him to crash in the first place? Adama felt then as if he was being pulled back to the place, as if pulled in by its magnetic force. There were too many questions and the Commander knew he would find no answers sitting pondering, alone in the dark.

He stood up with a swirl of his robes and replaced the hologram at the back of his shelf. Then he made his way slowly to the bridge where his duty dictated he should be.

"Turn us around, Tigh," he said. "And get that planet on the main scanner – I want to see what is going on!"

"But…." Tigh began.

"Get a long range patrol out too – Silver Spar squadron. I want to know the centon that any Cylon comes into the quadrant!"

* * *

Starbuck opened his eyes and blinked.

He had expected to see the somewhat blurred surroundings he had gotten used to over the previous centars – the mound, the creatures milling around, a grey pitiless sky and maybe even Apollo or one of the others. Instead he found himself in the crimson pulsating world he had visited once before. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the strangely warm, gossamer soft walls – he could feel the thrum of life pulsing through it. With a shudder he remembered that last time Kynan had said they were inside of him. In which case that beating noise must be his own heart and the pipes around him were veins carrying the blood around his body. He gulped, feeling more than a little queasy at such thoughts.

"Kynan," he whispered.

"Greetings, Starbuck!" There she was before him, materialising out of nowhere; a vision even more stunning and attractive than he recalled. She regarded him, eyes flashing as points of bright light in the otherwise deep scarlet 'Starbuck' universe.

"It is nearly time," she purred. "You have borne the process well – I knew you were strong but even you grow tired. I have used up all you have, all I needed. It will be over soon."

"I think there's an irony here," Starbuck murmured. "But I seem to be missing it!" He was having great difficulty in keeping his eyes open. His head too appeared to be suddenly too heavy for his neck and he had to lean to the side to balance it on his shoulder. Breathing was becoming a chore and he had to force his lungs to pump. Never-the-less he clung defiantly to his consciousness. "I was calling you," he said.

"I know."

Starbuck found the energy to pout, just. "You didn't answer."

Her smile was dazzling. "I was busy. I had more important things to do than gossip with you, entertaining though you are!"

He rolled his eyes and gulped. "Then why come now, now it's too late?"

She regarded him with soft, sympathetic eyes. "It was always too late for you, Starbuck." She stepped nearer and gently ran her elegant finger along his cheek. He shuddered slightly at her touch, closed his eyes, and almost succumbed to the darkness that waited so close to claim him, but then he forced himself awake again.

"Is it not important to you that you did not tell me the truth?" he pressed through gritted teeth.

"The truth?" she replied, her prefect eyebrows cocking upwards quizzically. She laughed then, the soft tinkle of a mountain stream. "I did not lie to you, Starbuck, I simply informed you of the facts that I felt were most pertinent to your situation!"

"There's a difference between not telling all of the truth and being completely honest!" Starbuck snapped, his head hurt and he really did not have the strength to argue further.

"And you would know of course since you have made a life of being somewhat circumspect with the truth! What truth do you wish me to be honest about this time?"

"That this was going to kill me!"

"Please! Spare me the dramatics! You are not so naive, surely! You knew, Starbuck, you have always known! How can you create new life, new civilisations if you do not give up what you already have? The power of the universe can never be destroyed or created it can only be changed. Did you really think this would be as easy as simply enduring a little pain?"

Starbuck snorted. "That is what you led me to believe."

"You were easily led!" She eyed him, curiously cool. "And what difference would it have made if I had told you? From the moment you crashed and I chose you, maybe even before that; your destiny was set. You had no choice as I had no choice."

Starbuck snorted. He didn't have the energy for this; not now she had sucked him dry! Besides he realised that fighting with her now would do him no good. His shoulders slumped, he looked away from the intensity of her eyes and sighed deeply. "I guess I'm just a little disappointed in myself – I fell for a sucker punch. Should have seen it coming! I mean I'm supposed to be the resourceful, smart one! Apollo; he's always up for a little sacrifice, self-denial even for a worthy cause. Where as good old Starbuck - reluctant hero; that's me! Dreams of glory have never been on my scanner – I'm selfish through and through and proud of it!"

She stared at him so intently then that he could not stop the shudder of disquiet that rushed through him – the sound of his heartbeat echoing all about them seemed to flutter and then beat faster. "You need not play that role, Starbuck, not for me, I know differently. You will be a legend! And it will satisfy even your need; the moment of your death will be so fulfilling in its ecstasy that you will require nothing more, ever."

Starbuck snorted again. "I don't necessarily see that as a plus point at this moment in time!"

She smiled. "I know how much you love life. It was that intensity that drew me to you. Letting go will be infinitely hard for you but that was why you were chosen. Your passion, your courage will be the spark that lights the fire of new life on this dying planet. Trust me!"

"I did, Kynan. That's what hurts!" He gulped. "You said you would be with me all the time but you left me to face it alone – the sickness, the spasms, the blood. I could have done with a little support you know!" His voice had the aspect of an indignant whine now.

"I was desperate, I did what I thought was right. I am fighting for survival as much as any other creature in this universe."

"But I thought we were partners! Seems this relationship has been a little one way; you know everything about me and I know nothing about you!"

"You would have been afraid and you had no choice."

"Frak, Kynan, I'm afraid now! Maybe, if I'd known what to expect." He shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing. "To be the founder of a whole new world, to be part of something, to be worshipped….. even if you end up dead; that is a tempting thing for somebody like me, Kynan. I may have surprised you."

"Your desire to be loved is so strong; you would have chosen this path?"

Starbuck sighed. "Maybe," he breathed grudgingly and then winked. "But don't tell anyone – I'd like to keep my inner most desires as secret as possible. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know!"

"I am sorry. I have only ever done what I thought to be right for my people. I may have been selfish but survival makes me so." She sighed. "We have no more time to debate and it matters little anyway. I am ready, you are ready. It is time."

Starbuck gulped. "Don't I get a last request? I think maybe we do need to discuss this further. And I can't die without a last hand of pyramid or a fumerillo. You might be ready but I don't think I am quite yet!"

She leaned forward, lifted his chin in her hands and kissed him passionately. He took her in his arms and pulled her close as their bodies squirmed but too soon she moved away.

"Lords! Where did you learn to kiss like that?" Starbuck asked, obviously shaken.

A sad, knowing smile played wistfully across her lips. "I am the embodiment of your dreams, remember?"

"Frak! I've been wasting my time with all this…."

"How I wish…" She cut him off. "But it is time."

Undeterred Starbuck tried again. "Maybe we should investigate a little further, for scientific reasons, obviously! I can't die without knowing more about my own dreams – that can't be right!"

"No time, Starbuck." She smiled. "But know; I and my people are grateful to you in so many ways!"

"Oh that makes it all fine then!" Starbuck looked at her eyes wide, for some sign that there was still some flexibility for him, some hope. He felt like a fish wriggling on the end of a hook, begging to be thrown back into the stream for one more shot at life, she simply stared back resolutely, ignoring the charm inherent in his forlorn but appealing enquiry. Finally with a deep pang of fear rushing through him, he allowed himself to believe there was to be no escape, not this time. Everything she had told him, everything he feared, was about to come true.

Frak! If that was the case then so be it! He had no choice in that fact but he still did have a choice in how he accepted such a destiny. Never let it be said that the celebrated Lieutenant Starbuck didn't know how to put on a show!

He snorted with resignation and gathered his remaining strength. "All right, my course is set," he said his voice soft but determined, it grew in intensity, as did the pounding of his heart. "You want me to be a legend, Kynan; I'll show you what a frakking legend can be! Move over Commander Cain; you were only ever lightweight. I am going to blast into oblivion like the fastest, biggest, most beautiful comet you have ever seen. You picked the right guy, Kynan, when you picked me. I have all the qualities and the magnetism you need. I can do this and I can do this with style! You better be watching universe cos this is going to be the greatest spectacle you have ever seen!"

* * *

TBC 


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**

"Boom, I've had a long time to think lying here." Starbuck's voice was slow and muted, his handsome features pale, twisting as he concentrated great effort on shaping each word.

"And?" Boomer raised his eyebrows, wondering what was about to come next. One thing, probably the only thing, you could guarantee with Starbuck was his unpredictability.

They had been taking it in turns to sit with the blonde lieutenant as he endured the third phase. His strength was seeping away with the blood that seemed to spring unbidden from various bodily orifices without warning. It was a case of simply stemming the flow and mopping the blood away. Starbuck treated it as a minor inconvenience; Boomer had even heard him asking Marton, one of the other Warriors with them, if he wanted to bet on which hole he would bleed from next. Much to Boomer's relief, Marton had declined the offer on the grounds of good taste. Starbuck had scoffed at that and accused Marton of lacking in imagination! To which Marton had agreed and added that he would never bet on something that he could not confirm with his own eyes and the risk of what he might have to look at in this case was just too great. Starbuck had laughed and told him he was a coward who didn't know what he was missing!

The blonde appeared to be calm now, although he had muttered to himself at one point, seeming to be having a conversation with an unseen other party but his voice had been too low to pick out his words.

Starbuck smiled and Boomer had a sudden longing that he was seeing that smile behind a large glass of ambrosia in the Officers Club on Galactica; the place it should be, not in these surroundings. "I think I've found it!"

"What?" Boomer knew he was setting himself up but he did not begrudge it, not now.

"The perfect system!" Starbuck beamed.

"Bucko," Boomer groaned. "I thought you were going to come out with the meaning of life or something!"

Starbuck snorted. "Boom Boom, the perfect pyramid system is the meaning of life! Anyway," he shifted position with a groan and a trembling hand pressed something into Boomer's. "It was kind of difficult to get it down but Mags came through with some charcoal from the fire and a big leaf."

As Starbuck spoke, Boomer ran his eyes over the scrawled instructions on the leaf. Boomer, thankfully had not needed to read Starbuck's handwriting very often with the technology of the colonies but the few times he had seen it he knew it had never been neat, rather it was indicative of the blonde's general character and outlook on life; it sprinted across the page with no forethought of where it was going or indeed what it was communicating to the reader in the process. But, incredibly, and Boomer would have staked a centon's pay; well he would have done if he'd been a betting man, that it was not possible but this time it had taken a distinct turn for the worst, being almost illegible. Boomer squinted at it, trying to decipher the symbols that looked like an ambrosia-laden spider had stepped through the embers of a fire and then scurried across the leaf in a haphazard pattern.

"Do you get it?" Starbuck pressed.

Boomer nodded slowly. "I think…"

"Then you got to promise you'll play it, for me."

Boomer's stomach turned over. So that was what this was all about – he should have guessed! Rather than display intimate feelings, feelings that Starbuck, being Starbuck, refused to acknowledge, this was the blonde's way of telling Boomer goodbye. Boomer was touched. Even now, though Starbuck would not reveal how he felt, he was doing the next best thing; he was bequeathing Boomer his latest pyramid scheme.

Boomer had spent more yahrens than he could remember making allowances for the nuances of Starbuck's character, the walls the blonde hid behind and the manly mask he wore for the world; and the Leonid was not about to stop now. If that was Starbuck's desire, Boomer could talk inane irrelevancies and hide his true feelings behind them as well as the next guy, and almost as well as Starbuck, especially when he knew how much his friend was relaying on him to do so. Accordingly he let out a melancholy sigh. "Of course, buddy," he said softly, lifting his eyes to meet Starbuck's beseeching ones. "Looks pretty straight forward to me."

He embraced the other man carefully, his mind ticking over options for his next remark. He could play the game – had been doing so for as long as he had known the blonde pilot. "I don't know why you got this gig, Bucko," Boomer said as he drew away regretfully, forcing himself to smile as he went through the outward motions while inside his heart was breaking. "But you are the only man I know with the attributes to pull it off."

"Wit, charisma, charm?" Starbuck sniffed appreciatively.

Boomer shook his head. "I was thinking more of the size of your ego!"

"You're only jealous, Boom! If you've got it!"

"I admit it. Your sense of style, your…," Boomer hesitated, suddenly realising he couldn't hold it in, couldn't be strong, couldn't play the game, not this time; the ache of his loss and his forthcoming grief was just too hard to hold at bay. "I'm gonna miss you, buddy." His voice was so close to cracking and he looked away from those intense blue eyes.

Starbuck nodded slightly as if at once accepting and dismissing the lapse. His eyes were veiled with a depth of emotion which was exceptionally revealing. He reached out and gently squeezed the other man's forearm. "Look for me in the stars, Boom, I'll be there," he whispered.

Boomer inclined his head in acknowledgement of what had just passed between them. He pulled himself together and sniffed, just once. Then he smirked. "Very poetic, Bucko! You get that off the back of your fumerillo packet?" He shook his head wistfully.

Starbuck chuckled weakly; normal behaviour was resumed and his eyes flashed mischievously. "Nope, a laxative advert, as I recall!"

Boomer guffawed. "Yeah, I think I remember it now. Well, I have to say that you are the best pain in the astrum I ever knew!"

"I'm touched, Boom, Boom - I don't think I've ever heard such praise from you!" Starbuck winked conspiritously. "Any chance you can get me one last smoke? I mean the condemned man should have one last request, shouldn't he?"

"And here's me thinking you just wanted to talk! I should have known you wanted something from me."

"You wound me, Boom." He smiled. "But what are friends for?"

"Anyway Cass'll kill me!"

"Relax, buddy!" Starbuck's smile was as overconfident as ever. "Send her to me – I got her well trained!"

Boomer shook his head. "Just an ego on legs," he muttered. "If she heard you talking like that, she'd kill you herself!"

* * *

"Hey, Cass! Look on the bright side; you were wrong!" Starbuck's voice was tired but he was forcing the flippancy into his words. 

Cassiopeia lifted her moist, wide eyes to him as she sat down. "How?" she murmured.

"Smoking my fumerillos isn't gonna kill me!"

Boomer had managed to sneak one last smoke past Cassiopeia's watchful eyes and Starbuck had been enjoying it as she approached. He ignored the guilty urge to hide it and instead took a dramatically long puff. Cassiopeia looked at him with disappointment and no little distaste. Finally she decided to ignore his childish behaviour and said, "How can you laugh, at a time like this?"

Starbuck snorted. "Because it's all I've got left, Cass. Waiting and crying is not going to help me and it's not who I am. It never was, was it? Frak; I cheated death so many times, rode it so close to the edge, I was beginning to think it would never get me. Well, it's going to win today and I'm going to lose, big time. And all I'm going to be is a memory that you guys carry around inside your heads. I've decided I am going to make that memory larger than life; I am a hero already and I'm going to be a legend real soon – I'm going supernova!"

He took one last draw on the fumerillo and then regretfully stubbed it out on the ground beside him. He coughed dryly and ignored the 'told you so' flash in Cass' eyes. "Frakking thing inside me is as bad as you – doesn't like the smoke."

"Maybe we should smoke it out then," Cassiopeia mused as she quelled the revulsion that ran through her when she saw the heaving of Starbuck's stomach.

She turned her mind back to their original conversation and shook her head, wondering how much of his sentiment was pure bravado and how much was specifically to make her feel better. How typical of the man! She had this one last moment with her lover and she did not want to waste it by discussing his overwrought reputation or arguing about his habits, even if they were disgusting. There were things she needed to say. "Starbuck, I don't want you to die for anyone, not even for a whole planet. I want you to live for me!"

Her face crumpled in sorrow as the tears rolled down her swollen cheeks. He reached up and rubbed them away. "I know, Cass, but I was only ever transitory; all my life I've just been passing through. I belonged nowhere." She sniffed, opening her mouth to protest but he continued. "If it's any conciliation at this point, I want you to know that the place I have felt the safest and happiest in all my life is in your arms, Cass!"

She sobbed then and he pulled her down to him, holding her tightly to his chest. "You're going to meet somebody special," he said soothingly as he gently stroked her hair. "He'll sweep you off your feet and he'll stay with you forever. He'll be so much better for you than I ever could be."

She looked at him, smiled sadly and shook her head. "You're all I ever dreamed of; anyone else will always be second best, Starbuck. We could have worked it through, you know."

"You always saw the best in me, Cass, I'm not sure we could. I'm not even sure that the goodness you saw is really there. Anyway," he sighed. "Promise me one thing."

"OK."

"When you meet this guy and he sweeps you off your feet, never ever think of me; not for one centon."

Cassiopeia shook her head. "You're one of a kind, Starbuck," she mused. "There'll never be anyone to compare with you."

"Humour me."

"I always do!" She was crying now, the big tears running down to make a stream along the smooth contours of her face.

"I never thought I'd get this chance," Starbuck said. "I mean, I thought it would all be over quick and dirty; my viper blown to pieces in a centon; here one centon, vaporised the next! At least this way I get to hold you one last time." He pulled her close again. "You are beautiful, Cass."

"And you are too, Starbuck. Just hold me, please. Hold me forever and never let me go."

* * *

"I could still get you in the shuttle, take you back to the Life Centre, get Salik to cut this frakking thing out of you. Lords, I could even try to cut it out of you myself!" Apollo said. 

He was sitting beside Starbuck, his arm around the other man and the blonde head resting feebly on his shoulder. Starbuck was very weak now and kept drifting away but he managed to find the strength to lift his head a little and look at his Captain.

"You think I'm going to let you inside me with a knife?" He shook his head. "You must think I'm really desperate!"

"Aren't you?"

Starbuck lay his head back down and took a long breath of air. "No," he disclosed. "I'm pretty cool about the whole thing." He gulped again. "It was always going to happen some day. This way I get the chance of a tremendous and memorable exit – you know me 'Pollo, how could I ever resist that?"

Apollo shook his head slowly. "So you don't want me to find a knife then?"

Starbuck shuddered. "No." He swallowed. "I'm quite looking forward to how this is going to end, in a morbid, short term sort of way, of course! I'm always up for a show."

They were silent for a long time and Apollo thought Starbuck had drifted away. He was surprised when the familiar voice came again. "Look after her for me, Apollo."

"Of course."

"That's all that I really hate about this; leaving Cass, and you and the others, except Tigh maybe; him I could do without!"

"He'd be deeply upset you said that, you know, Bucko. Deep down he has a soft spot for you!"

Starbuck snorted. "Really? What soft spot would that be – the one between my eyes? He's got a mighty strange way of showing his affection; what with overlong duty patrols, paperwork, cataloguing, filing…!"

Apollo smiled. "He only does that to show you you're special to him."

Starbuck snorted disrespectfully, using up what remained of his strength. "Someone should have told him a few bottles of ambrosia would have worked better!"

Apollo chuckled. "You make me very proud, you know Starbuck," he said, suddenly serious. "I've always known you had a big heart but this…" He hesitated unable to find any words to describe the true horror of it all. "It beggars belief!"

"I'm not so brave," Starbuck said, his voice lacking all strength as he slipped away again. "Didn't have a choice, not really." He gulped. "It was sort of thrust upon me." He licked his lips and tried to pull back his senses, his features crumpled in concentration as if it was suddenly very important he tell Apollo his thoughts. He spoke slowly, each word costing him and hesitated often. "You remember on the Ship of Lights, after they brought you back to life. Those beings, those angels, said we had to go out into the universe and sow our seeds. I must admit this wasn't quite the sowing I had in mind," he chuckled at that but it soon degenerated into a hacking cough. Apollo smiled ruefully, rubbing the other man's back gently until the fit slowly passed. Starbuck rested his head back on his friend's shoulder. "Maybe this is what they meant. Maybe I was destined to do this all the time. Maybe this is all part of a bigger plan."

Apollo snorted. "Maybe, but that doesn't make it any easier for any of us, least of all you, Bucko."

"Maybe I don't deserve easy." Starbuck let out a long breath and Apollo felt the taunt body beside him begin to relax.

"An awful lot of maybes in there, buddy!"

They sat quietly again, Apollo listening to his friend's breathing and trying not to think about what was about to happen.

His green eyes were moist when he finally managed to voice what was on his mind. "You were wrong, you know, Bucko," he said softly. "You always had a place, a family, a purpose… with me and everyone else on the Galactica." Starbuck let out a long, deep sigh. Apollo lifted his head and peered at his friend who was sleeping now. "You were just too frakking stubborn to realise how much we loved you and how much of a hole you leaving us is going to cause. See, you're not even listening now, and I've spent a long time trying to work out what I was going to say to you, just how I could say goodbye to someone who means as much to me as you do. Had it all worked out and now you go and fall asleep on me – that is just so typical!"

Apollo chuckled to himself despite his predicament. He shifted his weight and gently lay Starbuck down on the mossy mound. "Makes no sense telling you now," he muttered self consciously. "Guess I'll just have to hope that you know it deep inside somewhere." He stood up stiffly and moved away.

After he had gone, Starbuck opened one lethargic eye and looked longingly in the direction his Captain had gone. "Oh I know it, buddy," he whispered unhappily "I'm just too afraid and I never wasbrave enough to listen to you say it!"

* * *

TBC 


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11**

Starbuck awoke with a pained gasp and sat bolt upright. "Apollo!"

"Shhh," Apollo said soothingly. "I'm right here, Bucko."

Starbuck's panicked eyes flashed about him and then his hands went down to clutch at his stomach. "I think something is happening," he whispered bleakly.

Suddenly there seemed to be deer creatures appearing from everywhere. Beagragon began to shout instructions at the top of his voice but he was largely ignored. Falinfech took over then and soon order was restored with all the creatures squatting on their haunches in a series of concentric circles, with the grassy mound at their centre.

Boomer and Cassiopeia fought their way through the crowd to their Captain's side. "Is this really necessary?" Apollo spat as he glared at the two leaders.

Falinfech looked away but Beagragon barred his teeth in the expression Apollo had come to realise passed as a smile for his kind. "Of course!" he beamed. "Or how will the promise be fulfilled?"

Apollo snorted. There were many things about this he did not understand, not least of which was the deer creatures' role in the proceedings. He pushed his way between Starbuck and Magawincha while indicating Cassiopeia and Boomer should go to his other side.

Starbuck was gasping for breath as he drifted in and out of consciousness. "Kynan!" he muttered.

There was an excited gasp from the nearest deer creatures at the name and the news was hurriedly whispered from one to another until even the furthest one knew what the golden one had said; they seemed satisfied with events thus far.

The pain was rushing through Starbuck again, more intense than anything he had previously felt. His body stiffened and he let out a scream of complete agony. He began to whimper and grind his teeth. There appeared to be no respite as wave after wave of contractions washed through his muscles, not allowing him to recover before the next blast of pain hit him.

"Bucko," Apollo whispered as he moved forward to take hold of the failing hands. Starbuck clutched at him, as if the very touch could somehow lessen his pain. Cassiopeia grabbed his other hand and Boomer his ankles; together they held him tightly.

"So it begins," Beagragon muttered. "The seed will out."

Starbuck's breaths were coming in struggling wheezing gasps between the convulsions that were wracking through him. "Breathe," Cassiopeia whispered. His eyes opened wide and though infinitely dulled by pain they appeared to focus on her.

"Cass….." he whispered but another spasm hit him and his body lifted off the floor to writhe in agony.

"Deeply," Cassiopeia said. "Suck the air deep into your lungs, concentrate on that. Pretend you've got your favourite fumerillo. Take each breath at a time."

He looked at her, nodded, tried to whisper his thanks but the next spasm cut through everything that he was and he screamed once more.

His desperate eyes flashed to rest on Apollo then. "'Pollo, stop the pain!" he pleaded between spasms. "I can't….."

Apollo gulped. "I don't know how, buddy," he replied. "Hold on to me and take my strength. We are all here for you!"

As the contractions continued and there appeared no relief in sight, Apollo looked desperately to Beagragon. "How much longer?" he demanded.

"Soon," Beagragon replied with supreme confidence. "See it comes…"

He nodded towards the distended area of Starbuck's belly. It was glowing brightly. As the blonde bucked and writhed, held down only by Apollo, Boomer and Cassiopeia's firm grip, the bulging light appeared to move. Apollo gazed transfixed with horror as the thing slowly, oh so slowly, began to inch its way up Starbuck's gullet. Its movement was not smooth rather it lurched and with every motion Starbuck's muscles tightened in agony and he screamed again.

Boomer caught Apollo's eye and they exchanged desperate glances – what could they do? Apollo reached down and gently rubbed the sweating forehead but Starbuck was aware of nothing save for the rupturing, tearing pain in what used to be his stomach.

Inexorably the thing continued its progress but Starbuck's screams became less, weaker and weaker as his strength gave out until eventually he could only muster a feeble groan that grated in the back of his throat. That sound too stopped as the light reached his throat, the muscles in his neck contorted and stretched to accommodate the bulging size of the shape that had obviously grown so much it was too big to make the return journey out of the suffering pilot. Starbuck began to cough and gag as it blocked both his windpipe and his oesophagus.

"Frak!" Apollo spat impotently as he feared the pilot would choke before them and they could do absolutely nothing to help him.

Starbuck struggled instinctively, with renewed vigour as his body realised his plight, his vision was tinged with scarlet acquiescing to black, he saw dark shapes around him, he could not focus on them. But something deep inside told him he did not have much time. The light was pressing tightly, filling up all the space in his throat, so no matter how hard he tried he could get no air into his burning lungs. He was vaguely aware of a strange gurgling sound that must have been coming from him and his head was thundering. Deep inside he desperately tried to fight but every part of his body seemed to scream in defeat as his heart itself lost strength and his conscious being began to shut down.

At that very moment, as the blackness was about to take him, he felt a tremendous pressure building in his gut and rushing upwards. It pushed the bulge before it and all sprayed out of Starbuck's mouth in a blazing stream of bright white light. Starbuck's nostrils flared as he sucked up the wonderful oxygen through his nose and his lungs commenced their action again, desperately fighting for life. His body racked with cramping pains as the life-giving gas flowed around it once more. His awareness was almost gone, he had no sense of where he was or what was happening, he was acting only on instinct, frantically fighting to stay above the blackness, to stay alive but his life was dripping away. He involuntarily threw back his head and the light spurting from his mouth flashed upward, it bounced off the monolith above them where it split into five separate beams of light each shooting off in the direction of the other obelisks.

The air suddenly seemed to be cracking with energy, throbbing with excitement as the monolith above them began to glow with white light. Then the light refracted, changing into the full spectrum of colours of the rainbow. Not only that it was cascading downwards too like an incredibly beautiful multi-coloured waterfall. Everywhere the light waves touched seemed to sparkle with new energy and vigour. Trees seemed to swell in size, first leaves and then pretty blossom budding and growing to clothe the bare branches in seconds and the flames of the small fire of the encampment increased in size as they seemed to dance upwards towards the sky.

The whole place seemed to be overwhelmed by an incredibly intense celebration of life; it was that special moment of magic sensed immediately after the birth of a child but multiplied a thousand-fold. Little flowers sprung from the mud and the mossy carpet expanded to cover all of the brown area. Cassiopeia let out a gasp of awe as a mild breeze blew through her hair and she smelt the long forgotten scent of spring and rebirth. New life seemed to vibrate through the glade.

Boomer, as he looked up at the monolith saw the grey clouds part to reveal a perfect blue sky and that was not all, a brilliant bright sun blazed down on them but its intensity was still dim compared with the power that was streaming from Starbuck's open mouth up to be dispersed by the monolith.

* * *

"By the Lords of Kobol, what is happening?" Adama asked in awe.

"I don't know!" Tigh responded sounding equally shocked. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before!"

They had the planet up on screen and what had once appeared quiet and benign appeared to have suddenly leapt into life. The cloudy mist that had shrouded the planet seemed to have burned off and now the whole globe was alight with a number of throbbing energy sources that seemed to be brightening in intensity. Running between these spots were lines of light that covered the whole surface in a grid pattern.

Omega was desperately tapping on his keyboard, his face a mask of concentration. "Immense levels of energy," he reported. "Intensifying to critical levels."

"Where from?" Adama aked.

"Pinpointing now, Sir." Omega tapped again.

There was silence as everyone waited, the time suddenly stretching out for what seemed an unbelievably long eternity. "There appears to be a network system developing." Omega stated. "The obelisks are acting as receptors, channelling the energy, increasing it. The levels are rising steadily."

"Where's it coming from, Omega?" Adama repeated.

The bridge officer's eyes widened as he re-read the details on the screen before him. It was the only sign of emotion as his voice replied, clinically efficient and devoid of all feeling. "It's coming from the glade, Sir." He turned in his seat to look at the Commander. "The glade where Captain Apollo is, Sir."

* * *

Starbuck's eyes were tightly shut, his body was glowing, straining as every muscle was stretched to breaking point. He was held down to the earth only by his hands clutching blindly hold of Apollo and Cassiopeia and Boomer at his ankles, except for them he would have levitated into the air. And where he touched them they could feel not only the pain of his tight grip but also the disconcerting feeling intensifying that the life was somehow being sucked from them. Cassiopeia even tried to let go of him but Starbuck's grip was frightening in the strength of its inhuman power. Her eyes flashed worryingly at Apollo, who gave her a supportive tense smile. "We're here, Bucko," he muttered.

The miraculous changes continued around them; the newly grown blossom fell from the trees to overlay the mossy carpet with soft, pink petals. Fruit began to grow, swelling and ripening in just seconds as the boughs of each tree began to creak and stagger with the weight of such bounty. The scent of spring was no longer in the air; it was chased away by the verdant, sticky smell of the juices of full summer. The air hung sugary sweet, as heavy as the branches of the trees and suddenly lightening flashed across the sky, fingering downwards and connecting with the light streams that enveloped the planet. Big cool drops of rain splattered, refreshing and anointing all. Thunder rolled and a stiff breeze blew through the glade.

"What's happening, Apollo?" Boomer asked, his voice seemingly too loud for the intimacy of the moment but purposely so to be heard over the thunder.

Apollo shuddered, the invigorating rain tickled as it dripped along his nose, he could not lift his hands from Starbuck to wipe it away, so he sniffed. "I don't know, Boomer," he muttered, his heart racing fearfully.

* * *

"I don't believe it," Omega mumbled.

"What?" Tigh asked.

"The planet – it's regenerating itself!"

"What?"

"It's true, look!" Adama was looking out of the portal at the planet as it sat in the vast black curtain of space before them. As the swirling mists had receded, a grey almost lifeless surface had been revealed, crisscrossed only occasionally by the bright light but as they watched the greyness was slowly retreating, taken over by a green vegetation that appeared to grow over the planet like mould on a laboratory dish in one of Doctor Wilker's experiments. Not only that but as he watched, Adama saw the blue of vast tracts of water springing up to form oceans and rivers on the surface and the whiting of ice at the planet's poles.

"The scanners are going wild!" Omega said. "Mineral deposits that were not showing just microns ago are suddenly off the scale. It's impossible!"

Tigh was looking over his shoulder, reading down the list of minerals flashing up. "Tylium!" he cried unable to hide his glee. "Massive amounts!" He stopped suddenly aware of where he was, catching hold of his emotion he took in a deep breath. "But how?"

Adama pulled his astonished eyes from the green and blue, living planet that hung before them so serenely beautiful; it was impossible to conceive it had ever looked any differently, and certainly not been a mist covered desert, only centons ago. He sighed deeply. "It would appear, gentleman, that whatever it was he is supposed to do, Lieutenant Starbuck is doing it!"

* * *

The deer creatures were silent, eyes upturned and wide with wonder as if waiting. Their small bodies shivering so the whole glade appeared to be flexing in anticipation.

Starbuck gasped, his eyes were tight shut but tears were streaming down his face. Apollo felt his own vision dimming as an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion stole the strength from his senses and over-extended muscles. The feeling of being sucked dry of all of his vigour was increasing. He glanced down at where Starbuck was touching him and he saw his own skin around the contact point had begun to take on the same eerie glow that emanated from the pilot's almost translucent body. Apollo shuddered in barely concealed terror. What the hell was happening?

And still the light spewed forth from Starbuck's mouth up to the obelisk to be refracted around the planet. A single shaft hit Beagragon as he stood close by, nose twitching expectantly. The creature's whole being began to shake violently and he let out an ineffectual screech. A black line appeared vertically running across his chest, down his belly, up his neck and round his back. Then his deer like form simply fell away as if cleaved apart by an invisible but massive chopper. It fell away, an empty carcass split into two prefect halves to reveal a man squatting down on the moss. Like a butterfly extending its wings for the first time as it left its useless chrysalis, the man stretched his arms upwards and then flexed the muscles in his legs. He stood up, tall and proud, his body perfectly formed with chiselled muscles rippling beneath tanned skin. His face, framed by golden hair, glowed with beauty and inner serenity – he looked like a god.

Another shaft of light hit Falinfech, he shuddered and then exactly the same process occurred so that within seconds another golden divine figure stood before them. Magawincha too, took a shaft of light full on her chest and within seconds she was transformed into a beautiful blonde woman.

"Frak!" Boomer eloquently voiced the shock that was running through all of the Warriors' minds as they watched.

The monolith's light split into many separate beams and each focused on to one of the deer creatures. They shuddered and were transformed until the glade was full of naked, golden beings, all flexing their limbs and looking at each other with a glowing sense of contentment lighting their faces.

"Lords, what have you done, Bucko?" Boomer breathed.

The body of the subject of the question was glowing intensely as the light passed from him. And then, as suddenly as it started the light dimmed and was gone. Starbuck closed his mouth abruptly as the light went out. He groaned feebly as his suddenly drab and grey body spasmed horrendously one last time. His eyes flashed open and he screamed a forlorn, frail hopeless sound and then fell, as if sucked dry of his spirit, back to the mound.

"Starbuck!" Apollo shouted.

But Starbuck did not hear his friend's voice. He was aware of nothing as his lifeless eyes closed, his muscles jerked and then relaxed completely. A weak sigh escaped his dry lips and then he was perfectly still.

* * *

TBC 


	12. Chapter 12

**Part 12**

"It's over," Apollo said, forcing back the wave of exhaustion that threatened to overpower him. "Fight it, Starbuck," he pleaded. "Stay with us, don't leave us, not now."

The light died and Cassiopeia had breathed out a tired sigh, letting go of Starbuck as she collapsed to the side, unconscious. Boomer too had felt the fatigue rushing to claim him as he relinquished his hold on the blonde pilot. Only Apollo retained his steadfast grip.

Starbuck's eyes flicked open but they were dulled and misty and his pupils rolled up into the top of their sockets. His breathing was very shallow and his skin had lost the shining glow from earlier so that now it looked grey as a corpse.

Noting these worrying signs, Apollo gathered his friend up into his arms. "Live, Bucko," he muttered. "I won't let you die, not today!"

Starbuck's eyes were fluttering and he was gulping in air like a stranded fish. Boomer felt sure he was almost gone as he fought to keep himself conscious. Still Apollo recited his litany against death, rocking gently backwards and forwards as he held on tightly to the inert body of his friend. Boomer was vaguely aware of the other beings moving around the glade but he was transfixed by the scene before him as Apollo would not allow Starbuck's spirit to leave his body.

Eventually Starbuck's hoarse whisper could be heard. "Let me go, 'Pollo. I'm so tired."

Apollo shook his head and his grip tightened. "No," he said firmly. "You have given so much, Starbuck, found so much strength. Don't let go, not now!"

Starbuck's smile was faint; his eyes seemed to be fixed on a distant point. "I have to go," his voice was so weak it was a sigh.

Apollo clutched at Starbuck's hand. "No," he pleaded, teeth gritted obstinately. "Stay here with us – this is your place, Starbuck. Take my energy, my life force, as you gave these others yours, so I give you mine. Take it, Bucko – don't go."

Starbuck licked his lips wearily. "It's not enough, 'Pollo. I got nothing left."

Apollo forced his hand tighter into Starbuck's. "Then take some of mine. You did it before, I felt you taking it while the promise was being fulfiled. Do it again!"

Boomer sensed what was happening and suddenly a bud of hope blossomed in his tired, despairing heart. He stepped forward. "And mine, Bucko," he said. "Take some of me, all you need."

"I can't, I don't know how. It just happened…" Starbuck's head lolled uncontrollably.

"I won't let you go, buddy!" Apollo was unyielding. "Just do what you did before. C'mon where's that spirit you're so famous for? You want to be a legend well be a living one, Starbuck!"

A throat being cleared behind them cut through their desperation and Apollo looked up to see one of the new beings staring at him, sympathy tinting the pure blue of his eyes. "I was Beagragon," he said hesitantly. Apollo nodded. "My name was Sebastian long ago before I slept and so it will be again.

"Hello, Sebastian," Apollo said weakly.

"There is more that we can do," Sebastian said. "We are all indebted to the Golden One, without him we would not have lived again but he is not the one who should have come, he is not the one of the scriptures."

Boomer scowled, finally managed to force away the dreary cloud of tiredness that had haunted him. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian pursed his perfect lips. "The Golden One should have died in glory at the moment the seed left him, Starbuck did not; he lives still."

"Barely," Boomer muttered.

"And yet it is enough."

"Enough for what?" Apollo was only just holding on to his temper as beneath his firm hands Starbuck shuddered.

"I believe we can save him."

"How?"

"There is little time. You must trust us."

"Trust you after what you have done to him?" Boomer snapped.

Apollo reached out and laid a placating hand on the Lieutenant's indignant shoulder. "He's right, Boomer, Starbuck's slipping away." He looked down at his pale friend. "What do you say, Bucko?" he asked. "You consider coming back?"

Starbuck sighed, his eyes still fluttering, he took great gulps between each word but he forced them out. "Boomer will have to promise to give me my perfect pyramid system back," he whispered.

Boomer guffawed. "You got it, buddy!"

Starbuck smiled feebly. "Then I guess maybe the Galactica does deserve to be honoured with a little more of my presence!"

Apollo rolled his eyes. "Is that a yes, Bucko?"

Starbuck nodded weakly. "Providing it's not going to hurt – I used up my quota of pain for today and the next few yahrens, at least!"

Apollo looked up at Sebastian. "Very well," he said. "Do it!"

* * *

"Yeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!"

The scream of pure adrenaline-fuelled emotion blasted out of the speakers on the bridge, as the viper hurtled out of the launch tubes into the embracing blackness of space beyond.

All the bridge staff hesitated for a centon before their eyes turned expectantly to their Commander. Adama smiled, blue eyes sparkling with the wisdom of experience and the barest hint of mischievous youth from long ago. He turned to Tigh. "Tell me, Colonel, is that official colonial protocol following a launch?" he asked.

The Colonel rolled his eyebrows knowingly. "Not to my knowledge, Sir," he disclosed sternly before his face cracked into an amused smirk. "Although maybe on this occasion we can be a little, shall we say, 'flexible' on the adherence to procedure?"

Adama pursed his lips as if considering, then he matched Tigh's smile. "I concur, Colonel," he agreed. "I think we'll let the Flight Leader deal with this breach!"

As if on cue, Captain Apollo's voice came through the comm. "Blue two, this is Blue Leader, you are out of formation, get back in line, Lieutenant, now!"

There was a blast of static from the speakers before Apollo's voice came again. "Say again, Blue two, I do not copy!"

"Blue Leader, this is Blue three," Boomer's voice came through loud and clear. "It would appear Blue two is unable to communicate with you at the present time."

Apollo snorted. "A systems malfunction?"

"Negative, Blue Leader." Boomer responded. "It would appear Blue two has lost the power of speech!"

"Amazing!" Adama sighed.

"Unbelievable," Tigh muttered and added under his breath, "But quite an attractive proposition, never-the-less!"

And as if to underline the point, a further. "Yeeeeeeee haaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!" boomed through the speakers.

Adama had moved to the port and he looked at the three small vipers, blasting through space in front of them – two holding correct formation, the third engaged in a mind numbing series of intricate and dangerous twists and rolls. As the Commander watched the pilot of the viper threw it into a stomach lurching dive. Adama shook his head; the boy could fly, that was not in doubt!

Apollo too was watching, impressed by the crazy, impossible manoeuvres his wing man was negotiating with apparent ease. He shook his head as Blue two dived between both his and Boomer's crafts.

"Starbuck!" Boomer snapped. "Watch what you're doing – you'll kill us as well as yourself!"

But Starbuck was lost in the thrill of it all!

He had waited a long time, endured thousands of Doctor Salik's tests and questions from Doctor Wilker on what had happened on the planet, fidgeting irritability and got more and more disgruntled. Finally, unable to control his frustration he had channelled it into one thing; he had lived only for the moment when they at last pronounced him fit to fly. Once they had done that, there was no stopping him, he would give up anything, risk all, just to get into the cockpit of a viper again and escape into the stars. He had missed it so much!

Despite himself Apollo smiled at the exuberance of his wing man. It had been a long time since Starbuck had behaved like, well Starbuck! His experience on the planet had undoubtedly played on his mind and the blonde lieutenant had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about what he felt about it. He had accepted the congratulations of the others almost modestly, appearing ill at ease when the subject was discussed, and though he had spent a lot of time with Wilker and Salik neither doctor had been able to find much of any value in what Starbuck could tell them. Wilker had instead, resorted to analysing the vids that had been taken in the glade but Apollo was beginning to think they would never actually be able to scientifically quantify and explain what had happened.

Before they left the planet, as they had been amassing the supplies of tylium that were now powering the fleet, Apollo had spent some time with Sebastian. He had tried to persuade the blonde man to bring his people on to the Galactica, for who knew if the Cylons would find them on their newly bounteous planet. But Sebastian had been adamant; they would remain in their place in the universe and accept whatever destiny awaited them.

Apollo remembered their discussions now. "Though I am changed, still somewhere deep inside do I retain the being that was Beagragon." Sebastian had revealed. "Therefore I do know everything that has come to pass since the Golden One, our Saviour crashed on this planet. But I am more than Beagragon with his simple faith in the scriptures, too. I have evolved into a higher being as have all my people. This is what was planned so long ago."

Apollo had nodded and the 'new' man had continued, "When my people left our seed on this planet, they expected one of our own kind to come back and set the prophecy in motion, not an innocent outsider. The true Golden One would have been bred for the purpose, aware of his responsibilities and aware of the price he would pay. Your Starbuck was not and yet he willingly gave up his claim to life to help us."

Sebastian gulped before continuing. "Starbuck is not of the same physiology as our people, similar but not the same. Neither are the rest of you the same in your outlook and temperament; you care for each other in a way my people have forgotten. You have shown us this day that there is a great power in sharing. I believe, what you perceived was indeed true, you, Boomer and Cassiopeia bore some of the burden by simply holding on to Starbuck, by sharing his pain, you gave him some of your life force in order that he could make us live. We have learnt a huge lesson here on the powers of the universe – we will not forget that the greatest force of all is love. We all used this knowledge and gave a little back, enough to make Starbuck whole again. It is my hope that this lesson will not be lost to us as we build our new world, and maybe we will not suffer the same failures as our forefathers."

Apollo gulped. "What about Starbuck - will he be as he once was?"

Sebastian shrugged. "He is changed by experience of course, but physically he will be remade and renewed. His body will retain no scar, no sign that the seed was ever in him. Starbuck is a survivor. It will take time but he will endure."

As the viper roared past his own once more, Apollo's mind went back to the previous night when he had found Starbuck alone, smoking a fumerillo and disconcertingly pensive, in the celestial dome.

The blonde was looking back through space to where the outline of the planet he had saved could just be seen. "I wanted to talk to Magawincha," he said softly. "She didn't deserve it, not after she was so kind to me."

Apollo nodded, remembering his friend's reaction when he had been told that the compassionate and loving deer-like creature was no more but had transformed into a beautiful blonde woman, who called herself Kynan. Unexpectedly, since Apollo thought Kynan was just the sort of woman the irrepressible pilot would been attracted to and at the very least take an interest in, Starbuck had shivered and bluntly refused to have anything to do with the woman. "It's not right," he continued. "That Mags had to die, that any of them had to die, so that the others could live."

Apollo nodded. "But that was the plan all along. The deer were vessels simply carrying the souls of the beings who created them. Keeping them safe until the time was right."

"Until I came along." There was an unaccustomed bitterness in the blonde lieutenant's voice. "I gave them the power, I released the parasites!"

"Don't even go there, Starbuck," Apollo made his voice as firm as he could. "It wasn't your fault – none of it. And Magawincha was a willing disciple – she wanted it to happen. She lived her life for the promise to be fulfilled."

"I should have died too. I would have….." Starbuck's eyes were moist as he turned to Apollo. "Thank you," he said simply.

Apollo sat down beside him. "For what?" he asked.

Starbuck sighed. "I had given up," he disclosed his head hung in shame.

Apollo reached out a supportive hand and clasped his friend's shoulder. "Not you, not Starbuck," he said. "You were exhausted and in pain but you never gave it up. You're a fighter, Bucko – that's what we love about you!"

Starbuck's eyes had lifted then, and held his Captain's, they were wide and sincere with honesty. He opened his mouth as if to argue but then stopped himself and shrugged. "Hey that's not the only thing you love about me!" he smiled. "I have numerous other outstanding qualities, remember!"

That was it, Apollo realised, and the subject for Starbuck was now closed. He had said his bit, mused over his feelings and dismissed them, preferring the simplicity of denial rather than the fear of where such difficult and complex thoughts would take him. It was enough for him that he had survived, he would not undergo further suffering by dwelling on the guilt, not when he could shut it away into the far, unreachable realms of his memory. Never had Apollo envied him his carefree attitude more than at that moment.

The Captain smiled and gently punched Starbuck on the shoulder; they needed no further words; they both understood. Apollo let his features crease into a puzzled expression. "You do? Qualities? You, eh?" he replied. "I can't think of another one!"

"Yeeeeeeehaaaaw!" The viper buzzed past his starboard side, frighteningly close once more, pulling Apollo back into the present.

"Blue two!" he ordered. "Get back into formation, now!"

"Felgercarb!" came the response. "I've waited a long time for this and been through a lot!"

"Well at least it talks!" Boomer deadpanned.

"Only to express sentiments of insubordination!" Apollo retorted. "Get in formation, Lieutenant or I'll have you on a charge. Get that egotistical, overconfident astrum of yours into line, now! That's an order!"

The viper roared passed Apollo's as if he was stationary.

"You'll have to catch me first, Sir!" Starbuck responded with assurance.

"Of course I will, Blue two!" Apollo stated. "C'mon Boomer, let's show this insubordinate, arrogant son of a daggit just what real flying is all about!"

"Affirmative, Blue Leader!"

From his position on the bridge Colonel Tigh snorted. The Commander smiled. "Boys will be boys, Colonel!" he laughed.

Tigh grinned. "And you wouldn't have it any other way, Sir!"

"Is that the best you can do, Apollo?" Starbuck's voice scoffed over the speaker. "Lords, I'm happy to be still the best pilot alive!"

"In your dreams, Bucko!" Apollo spat and he swung his straining viper into a heart-stopping dive. "Frak!" he swore as Starbuck's craft slipped beneath him and away.

"And in reality!" Starbuck retorted triumphantly. "Gonna have to do better than that, Sir!" He gunned his viper back towards the Galactica. "Last one back buys the drinks, guys!"

"Better not be you then, Bucko," Boomer retorted. "Your salary for the next seven yahrens is going to pay for the viper you downed last time the Commander let you out to play!"

"Shush, Boom! I think I got away with that one!"

The End


End file.
